


Into The Dark

by Beserk



Category: Dracula & Related Fandoms, Dracula (TV 2020), Dracula - Bram Stoker, Dracula 2020
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, As In Dracula is From The Show and Everybody Else is from the Book, Because this Dracula is the Fucking Best, F/M, M/M, Mix of Book And Show Characters, Mix of Book And Show Lore, Multi, Ok Also Agatha Is Here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:48:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 47,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22133557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beserk/pseuds/Beserk
Summary: Modern AU of Dracula.
Relationships: Arthur Holmwood/John Seward, Count Dracula/Jonathan Harker, John Seward/Arthur Holmwood/Lucy Westenra, Jonathan Harker/Mina Murray
Comments: 169
Kudos: 584





	1. Of Bats And Sleeping Beauties

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, this show has one of the best depictions of Dracula I ever saw. And some of the lore is pretty cool. So I took that and only that.  
> Because we can do that.  
> We can do whatever the fuck we want.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mina wants her husband.  
> Dracula wants his newest bride.

Arthur wasn't believing her, or at least not taking her as seriously as she needed him to. Mina could tell by the squinty-eyed look he was giving her as he looked up from the missing persons' report he was filing, and from the way he cleared his throat, a sure-fire sign to tell he was nervous.

"What?" Mina demanded, ready to fight.

Arthur sighed deeply and put his pen down, "Let me get this straight, yeah? You haven't heard from Jonathan in three weeks-"

"Right."

"But I thought you told me that he wouldn't have internet," Arthur pointed out. "Where he was going. No internet, and no signal."

"That's what Mr. Hawkins told us," Mina was forced to admit. "That's why he had to bloody fly to Romania."

Her fiancé worked for a law firm that specialized in assisting rich Europeans in immigrating to England without having to do any of the bureaucracy on their own. Normally, said assistance would be given through the phone, but this new client had demanded (via letter, as an amused Jonathan had showed her) that a lawyer come to him, in his castle in Transylvania.

Jonathan had found that quite odd. He had told Mina, while she was helping him pack, "Transylvania is in Romania. It would be a bit like someone writing their address as Summerset, but not writing it was in England. Bit weird, ain't it?"

"Isn't it," Mina had replies, automatically, and Jonathan had responded by playfully throwing a pillow at her and calling her a 'bloody school marm'.

The memory caused a warmth to flow through her body, like she always felt when she thought of her beloved Jonathan. It had been nearly three years since they met, but to her, the initial excitement of a new love had yet to deplete. She loved Jonathan with a passion that made the rest of the world appear dank and dark without him.

"So, I don't understand why you're so worried," Artie said gently. "I'm sure you miss him, we all do, but-"

"Mr. Hawkins said it would be a week, at most, and Jonathan promised me he'd let me know if he ends up having to stay longer," Mina replied, getting a bit angry. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. It would do no good to project her frustration at Arthur right now. Not only would it not help her get her Jonathan back, none of this was Arthur's fault, and he was a good man who cared deeply for Lucy and John.

And she also owed him a debt of gratitude, since it was through him that she met her Jonathan, in a bit of a roundabout way. It went like this: Mina and her best friend Lucy Westenra had gone to a party with Lucy's partner Jack (Dr. John Seward, officially, though no one called him that), where they met Arthur. Lucy and Jack started spending most of their bloody time with Arthur, until…. well, it seemed to work for them, the three of them, and all Mina really wanted was for Lucy to be happy. And Mrs. Westenra need never know.

(Still, she couldn't quite gasp it, even now. She did not think she would have been able to share Jonathan with anybody, no matter how lovely…)

One night Mina had gone with them to a party at Arthur's friend Quincey's place (Quincey was an American, and that was, as far as Mina could tell, his one character trait). and that was where she'd met Jonathan, who, as it turned out, was not only Quincey's but also Jack's friend. So, she owed Arthur her happiness, in a way.

It didn't stop her from becoming bloody frustrated with him, though. Nothing would stop her from being frustrated until she had Jonathan safe in her arms again.

"I'm worried, Artie," Mina said quietly, tucking a strand of black hair behind her eyes. "You know Jonathan, he's the most bloody responsible person in the world. If he had to stay longer, he would have let me know."

She looked at Arthur with big, pleading eyes, until the blond man sighed and nodded, "All right, look. I'll call the embassy in Romania, yeah? I'll let you know what I hear."

Mina took a deep breath, nodding, "Thank you. You'll let me know? As soon as you hear?"

"You have my word, Mins."

*

After leaving the police station, Mina went back home and tried to go over the book reports her students had handed it a few days earlier, but she quickly realized she had absolutely no concentration. So she sighed and slapped the papers down and decided to go see Lucy.

Mina didn't bother with calling Lucy to see if she was home. They only lived ten minutes away from one another (Mina and Jonathan had moved to Lucy, Jack and Arthur's rather posh neighborhood when Mina got a job working at the private school there), so they often showed up in one another's houses unannounced. 

"Lucy, you home?" Mina called out, knocking softly on the door. "Jack?"

There was a moment of silence and then the door flew open. It wasn't Lucy, but Jack. Which was odd, since at this hour in the afternoon, Jack was usually in the psychiatric ward of the prison he worked in.

"Are you sick?" Mina said automatically, as soon as she saw Jack. His hair was wild, his glasses crooked, his face white. He looked a bit like he had when he was studying for his exams.

"Mina, God," Jack grabbed Mina's arm and pulled her in. "I was about to call you and Artie. It's Luce, I think she's sick."

"Why? What's wrong?" Mina frowned and slipped off her coat, rushing into the master bedroom.

"Nothing, according to the bloody doctor," Jack sighed and followed Mina. "She woke up weak, she could barely open her eyes. I called the doctor here, but she said there was nothing wrong with Lucy, that she was just tired. I'm glad you're here, Mina. I didn’t want to bother Arthur at work."

"I just did," Mina replied, walking into the room. "To ask about Jonathan-"

Her voice trailed off when she saw Lucy.

Her best friend was laying on the bed, her long blond hair sprayed out on either side of her face. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing shallowly, and was even paler than normal.

"Lucy," Mina whispered, rushing forward and placing her hand on Lucy's forehead. She was oddly cold, and when Mina touched her opened her eyes, and focused on her friend. And her eyes were…darker than normal.

Or at least that was how it seemed to Mina.

"Hullo, love," Mina said softly. "You all right there?"

"Mina," Lucy smiled, moving her head so Mina was cupping her cheek. "He was asking about you."

"Who, Jack?" Mina looked up at Jack, who was frowning down at Lucy.

"No, not Jack," Lucy mumbled. "I dreamt of someone, Mins. And he asked about you."

"All right," Mina said gently, and turned to Jack. "She seems…slightly delirious."

"But she doesn't have a fever," Jack replied quietly. "There's nothing wrong with her, physically."

"He wants Johnny, Mina," Lucy mumbled. "He doesn't know where he is now."

"It's all right, darling," Mina said soothingly, a bit taken aback. No one ever called Jonathan Johnny. Sometimes Mina called him Johnny Blue-Eyes, but never just Johnny. It was what his father had called him and ever since he had died Jonathan did not want to hear that nickname. "Johnny will be back soon. I asked Arthur to find him-"

Lucy smiled, closing her eyes again, "Good. He'll be glad."

"Right," Mina caressed Lucy's hair.

What an odd dream her friend had had.

*

Four days after Mina had first spoke to Arthur, she was sitting in Lucy's room, watching over her sleeping friend while Arthur forced Jack to rest in the guest bedroom. Lucy was breathing softly and evenly, but Mina was finding it hard to calm down as well, when Arthur came into the room and tapped her shoulder.

"Mina," Arthur said softly, trying not to wake the sleeping Lucy. She had been slipping in and out of sleep for the past four days, sleep walking every few hours. They'd taken her to the hospital two days earlier, but she had seemed completely fine in the hospital, collapsing again as soon as they brought her home. They were going to take her back as soon as Jack woke up from his much-needed sleep.

"Artie," Mina blinked, rubbing her eyes, and pushed the book reports to the side.

"I got a call," Arthur said quietly. "From the Romanian embassy. They found Jonathan."

"Found-?" Mina blinked and stood up, heart pounding. "Arthur, what are you saying?"

"Mina, listen," Arthur took hold of her hands and pulled her down to sit on the chair. "Listen, John's safe, all right? And on his way home. Now listen. The Romanians found Jonathan in a hospital-"

"What?!" Mina demanded, horrified.

"He was found, unconscious, flouting in a river. They had to put him into a medically induced coma because of some swelling on his head, so they couldn’t figure out who he was. He didn't have any ID on him. The hospital sent out Jonathan's picture, trying to find him. The embassy got it, and the person I send Johnathan's picture to recognized him. They sent me a picture of him in the hospital, and I ID'd him."

"Where is he now?"

Both Mina and Arthur jumped, turning to look at Lucy, who appeared more aware suddenly then she had for the past four days. She was looking at Arthur with almost frightening intensity.

"Uhm," Arthur blinked. "They got him on an airplane. Now that they know who he is their quick to get rid of him. He'll be in London Bridge Hospital by this evening."

"Oh, thank God," Mina groaned, and rubbed her eyes.

"Well," Lucy mumbled, closing her eyes again. "That's rather good, isn’t it?"

Mina swallowed, "How long ago did they find him, Arthur?"

"Four days," Arthur replied.

Mina looked down, shivering. She didn’t like the thought of Jonathan, laying in a hospital bed in a foreign land by himself for four days without anyone to watch over him. And then she looked up.

"He promised me to get home safely," Mina said. "He's got quite a lot to answer for."

"Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea," Lucy drawled.

*

"Oh, Jonathan," Mina placed a hand over her mouth as she walked into the hospital room. "Oh, my darling Johnny Blue-Eyes."

"Johnny Blue-Eyes."

Mina startled, turning to see Lucy walk into the room after her. Lucy had insisted on coming with Mina to the hospital as soon as they got the call that Jonathan had arrived there. She'd made a remarkable recovery from the moment Arthur told Mina about Jonathan, and Jack had suggested that perhaps she had simply been worried about Jonathan.

"You know how delicate she can be," He'd said, shrugging softly.

But even though she had healed so well, she'd still been acting odd. She refused to leave the house and closed the curtains during the day, refusing to face the sun. She wouldn't kiss Jack or Arthur, and once or twice Mina caught Lucy looking at her with deep, deep _loathing_. But as soon as Mina looked at her, Lucy's expression would morph into a sweet smile that Mina didn't buy for a second.

There was something wrong, clearly, but Mina was far too busy worrying about Jonathan to worry about Lucy as well.

Her friend swept into the room and walked past Mina to the bed where Jonathan lay, breathing softly. The doctor Mina spoke to before walking into Jonathan's room had told her that Jonathan should wake any moment now, and he'd be confused but didn't seem to have taken any lasting damage.

Lucy leaned over Jonathan, running her hand through his black hair, and Mina was a bit taken aback that it was Lucy who had done so first, and not her.

"There's my Johnny," Lucy murmured. "I've been looking for you."

 _That_ got Mina out of her daze. Lucy would never, ever call Jonathan _her Johnny_. He wasn't hers, and she didn't want him. She had Jack and Arthur.

"Lucy," Mina whispered. "What's wrong with you?"

"Wrong?" Lucy didn't turn away from Jonathan, continuing to caress his hair. "Nothing is wrong, Mina Murray. At least not anymore."

"What are you talking about?" Mina swallowed. "You…you don't sound like Lucy."

"Is that so," Lucy sighed and turned back to Mina. "What a shame. And I tried so hard to act like a proper young lady."

"What…" Mina whispered, taking a step backwards. "Who are you?"

The words tumbled out of her mouth without her intending to do so. But there was a deep sense inside of her that this person in front of her was _not_ her best friend.

"I, Mina Murray, am your fiancé's husband."

And then, Lucy put her hands on her face and pulled, and Mina watched in horror, unable to move and unable to speak, as the skin around her face stretched and tore, and a face appeared, and then, as the hands went down, a man's chest and body.

Mina collapsed on the floor, gasping and trying to breathe, as a man stepped out from the suit of skin that was once Lucy. The man was naked, covered by blood. He had black hair and dark eyes, and seemed to be around forty or so years old. He was handsome, there was no doubt about it, but more than that, he was horrifying.

"Now, this is a shame," The man sighed, as if put upon, not even looking at the nearly catatonic form of Mina on the floor. "I was hoping on keeping this disguise for…well, a bit longer, at least. She was a rather pretty little thing, that girl. Oh well, nothing to be done. No point crying over spilled milk, is there?"

 _Now_ he was looking down at Mina, as if expecting her to answer. He waited for a few moments and then sighed and turned away, exposing his toned ass to Mina's gaze.

"I suppose it's time to improvise," The man- the creature- rubbed his hands together. "I'll need a change of clothes, won't I? Oh, I'll find something on the way out."

Mina's heart lunged to her throat as the creature walked over to Jonathan and ran his fingers through his hair, much the same way he'd done when still in Lucy's body, leaving stains of blood on her Jonathan's smooth skin.

"You kept your will so much more then I ever could have imagined," The creature whispered to Jonathan, sounding…fond. Like he was praising a favored pet for obeying. "Even after nearly going mad. Jumped off the mountain! Wonderful, that was. Well, I suppose it's time to go, now. Got a house waiting for us-"

"No."

Mina didn't even realize she had spoken until the creature turned back to her, frowning. He kept his hand on Jonathan's forehead, his bloody thumb caressing the skin in casual, intimidate movement. The sight made her nearly sick, she couldn’t stand it. He had no right to touch her Jonathan like that.

No right at all.

"No?" The creature repeated, looking mildly amused. "Are you going to stop me, then?"

Mina swallowed, "Yes. I'll scream."

"You'll scream?" The creature mocked. "And you think I care about your screaming?"

"If I scream, people will come in," Mina closed her eyes briefly.

"Hmm," The man moved his head from side to side in thought. "Yes, I suppose that's true. Why don't you keep quiet then, and I'll take Johnny here and we'll be out of your hair?"

"Dra-drac-"

Mina and the creature both froze, and then turn as one to the bed. Jonathan's eyes are opened and staring at the creature, wide and pleading.

"Jonathan," Mina whispered.

At the same time the creature sighed out, "Johnny."

"Don't…please…don't hurt her," Jonathan croaked out, and Mina choked on her tears. He looked so frightened.

"Oh, Johnny," The creature clicked his tongue, shaking a finger at Johnathan. "You. You were a _very_ naughty boy."

Jonathan grabbed at his sheets, forcing himself up into a seated position. He looked dizzy, and his body was shaking.

"My love," Mina whispered. God, he looked so weak, so wounded. "Oh, my Jonathan."

"Now, what did you think your jump was going to accomplish, hmm?" The creature asked of Jonathan. "Did you really think I'd let you go just because you ran away?"

"I thought it would kill me," Jonathan replied, and stumbled. Mina gasped out as Jonathan's body collapsed towards the ground, but then the creature's arms were catching her Jonathan and placing him back on the bed, gently. "I thought that I would die."

"Oh, well, that's fair I suppose. That could have easily happened," The creature shrugged. "Though, I have to ask. Did you think I would just let you go once you died? That I wouldn't have dug your body out of the water and gotten you back? And if I couldn’t, that I wouldn't get a bit upset about it?"

He turned to look at Mina, and grinned wickedly.

"That maybe I'd be annoyed enough to…. go to your little girl and- just spit-balling ideas here, yes? Break every bone in her body before draining her dry?" His voice was casual, as though he were making conversation with an old friend.

Mina whimpered, unable to stop herself, but neither of the two by the bed turned to look at her. They appeared to be entirely engrossed in one another.

"You wouldn't-" Jonathan seemed to stop himself, and breathed out. "No. You would."

"Yes, I would," The creature's voice was somewhere between mocking and affectionate. Mina was starting to recognize that as one of his signature tones. And then he reached out with his bloodied hand to touch Jonathan, and Mina couldn't take it anymore. The creature couldn't touch Jonathan. She wouldn't let him.

So she started screaming.

"Oh, come now," The creature groaned, rolling his eyes. "Really."

"Mina!" Mina could hear Jack yelling from the corridor. "What's wrong? Mina?"

"Well, this puts a dent in our reunion," The creature rolled his eyes and before Mina could react, he swooped down, kissed Jonathan roughly on the mouth, and then he was gone.

Mina screamed even louder when suddenly, a swarm of bats appeared, flying around the room and taking the bloody remnants of what had once been Lucy.

That was when Jack appeared, gasping as he saw the last of the bats land on Jonathan's chest.

Jonathan stared at the bat for a moment, and then the creature flew up and fluttered above his forehead. To Mina's horrified eyes, it looked like the bat's version of a kiss.

And that was when Jonathan's eyes rolled over and he fainted.


	2. Of Bats and Dark Tales

People talked, asked questions, waited for answers. They wanted to know about the bats, about the blood, about where Lucy was. And if Jonathan had been able to speak, he would have told them that Lucy had never been in the hospital, that she'd been dead for days now. That Dracula had travelled to England, killed Jonathan's fiancé's best friend and took over her body. To spy on Mina, to help find Jonathan.

He would have told them that Lucy was dead because Jonathan had not remained with the Count.

But he wasn't able. Not to speak, barely to think. He lay in his bed, staring out the window and watching the flies buzzing, the bat that came during the night and sat there, watching him. Whenever he closed his eyes, he heard the Count begging him _, stay. Stay. You could be my finest bride. Johnny, you'll be like me-_

And he had to stop thinking entirely, or go mad.

Mina was there, most of the time. He heard the people speaking to her (cops, he assumed) and sometimes he could feel her hands on him. Caressing his hair gently, holding his hand. And he looked at the window, at the bat there. He wanted to tighten his hold on Mina, to show Dracula that he did not belong to him, that he belonged to Mina. But he was too scared. And he wasn't even sure if it was true anymore.

And so he existed in a state of half-awareness, until eventually, Jonathan heard a new voice.

The voice frightened him desperately. It was of a woman, a tough-sounding woman, and she sounded a bit like the Count. Not exactly, though enough to send a shiver down his spine.

"Miss Murray?" The voice asked, and Jonathan felt Mina shifting on the bed. He didn't turn his gaze away from the window, where he could see the sun peeking out. He knew that while the sun was up, there would be no bat, no flies, no Count watching him.

Watching _over_ him. That had been how the Count had phrased it, when Jonathan woke up in the middle of the night to find Dracula sitting on his bed, looking at him, and he'd gasped out a demand to know why the Count was watching. And Dracula had said, _Well, you're under my protection. I have to watch over you_ -

"Yes, that's me," Mina said, sounding nervous.

"Good, and you must be Mr. Harker, yes?"

Dracula had grinned when Jonathan had yelped and scrambled backwards, and then he'd placed his hand next to Jonathan's pillow and-

"Mr. Harker? Would you look at me, please?"

-and he placed his other hand on Jonathan's shoulder, slowly moving his shirt collar so his shoulder was exposed, and he'd whispered, _now aren't you a good-looking lad?_

"Miss Murray, do you mind giving me a few minutes alone with your fiancé?"

-he'd opened his mouth, exposing his fangs, and suddenly his eyes were red and black, and his long fingernails scraped against Jonathan's skin, drawing blood-

"Well, it's just the two of us now, Mr. Harker. We can speak of the Count openly now."

-his tongue had licked at the blood-

"I need to know about everything that happened to you, Mr. Harker. I've come all the way from Budapest to speak with you. To help you."

The vision in his mind grinded to a halt.

"No one can help me," Jonathan whispered, and turned to look at the woman speaking to him.

She appeared to be around her early to mid-forties, with a sharp nose and long auburn hair tied in a ponytail behind her ears. She was dressed in a pressed black suit and had seated herself in the chair Mina usually occupied. There was something about her that comforted Jonathan, a strength that made him think that she must know exactly what she was doing.

"Is that so?" The woman asked, nodding softly. "And why do you say that?"

Jonathan shrugged, turning away, "I doubt you'll believe me if I tell you."

"That you've spent the last three weeks trapped in a castle with a vampire intend on feeding on you? That I would credit as true."

Jonathan opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again and cleared his throat.

"Yeah. That."

The woman smiled gently and leaned forward, "I think you will find me more open to unexplainable stories than most."

"Who…who are you?" Jonathan found himself asking.

"My name is Agatha Van Helsing," The woman replied. "I'm a police officer, in Hungary. And I was brought here by the hospital's priest. He told me about the bats. You see, Mr. Harker, I've heard about the bats before."

"You've met Count Dracula?" Jonathan whispered.

Van Helsing shook her head, "No. But I've seen other quite odd things myself. So, you see, I believe that I can assist you in killing-"

Jonathan shook his head, "I don't…I don't think he can be killed."

Van Helsing shrugged nonchalantly, "We'll figure it out, I'm sure."

" _We'll_ figure it out?" Jonathan rubbed his eyes. "You want my help?"

"Don't you want to give it? I would have thought you'd jump on the opportunity to assist me," She watched him with careful eyes. "Or perhaps you're not interested in killing him? Did you grow attached-"

" _No_ ," Jonathan spit out, feeling stronger than he had in days. Weeks, really. "I have not grown attached to fucking Dracula. I just don't think killing him is possible. I don't think I can help you."

"Let me be the judge of that," Van Helsing suddenly sounded much gentler. "Will you tell me your story? I swear it will remain between the two of us, no one else will hear."

Heart pounding, Jonathan swallowed, "N-no one?"

"No matter what you tell me, I will not tell a soul. Your fiancé will never hear a word from me. So, will you help me?"

"I'll help you," Jonathan whispered. "I'll tell you-I'll tell you what happened."

"Good. Because I must know everything. Your dinners, your conversations, your intimate moments."

Jonathan stared at her.

"I'm asking, Mr. Harker, if you had sexual intercourse with Count Dracula."

Jonathan took a deep breath, and began his story.

THREE WEEKS EARLIER

Jonathan sighed and rubbed his eyes, walking through the doors of the Avram Iancu Cluj International Airport. He'd been sent by his boss, Mr. Hawkins, to assist in the immigration of some posh git who, for some unknown bloody reason, refused to communicate via phone or email, forcing Jonathan to fly to Cluj-Napoca, in the Transylvania part of Romania.

(Now, Jonathan knew that because the man had sent his letter, addressing himself to Transylvania, which was a bit like someone from Texas addressing himself to Texas, leaving out the US part he thought. He'd told his American friend Quincey that, though he used the example of Summerset and England to explain it to Mina.)

All right, Jonathan took a deep breath, calming himself down. Mostly, he enjoyed flying. Mr. Hawkins, his boss at the law firm, absolutely hated it, so though he was the youngest lawyer in the firm, he often got to be the one to fly on behalf of his boss. Meeting new people fascinated him (people in general did, but he was a perceptive young man and had learned most of what there was to learn of those around him already), seeing new places delighted him, and there was little in life that brought him more pleasure then telling Mina of his adventures.

Which was the problem. Not Mina, of course. Mina was wonderous. But having to be away from her. He'd proposed three weeks before, and had planned on taking her on a short trip, just the two of them. Perhaps to the beach, Mina loved the beach.

So, when he heard he'd have to go to Romania, of all places, instead of the vacation he'd been promised by his boss, he'd rebelled.

"Is there a reason I can't do this on Skype?" He'd demanded, only to be informed that their client apparently didn't have Skype, or a phone, or an email address of Facebook or- and on and on.

"And is he really a count?" Jonathan had asked, bad mood intensified. "Does Romania _have_ counts?"

"Not anymore," Mr. Hawkins had seemed amused by Jonathan's frustration. "My guess is he's from a family that once held that title and is clinging to it. Not all nobles are as lucky as ours, you know."

They'd both snorted at that. Neither of them was a royalist.

"Go to Romania," Mr. Hawkins had said, finality in his voice. "Flash those pretty blue eyes of yours-no need to look at me like that, I listen to Mina when she rambles about you- get us a new, rich-as-God client, and I'll give you a whole three weeks off instead of the two you were supposed to get. Wait for when school's out and take Mina on a nice, long trip all over the world. Eh?"

There wasn't a real choice, but Jonathan had said, hoping he was at least slightly keeping his dignity, "All right, I'll go."

The smirk Mr. Hawkins sent him made it clear that he had not succeeded in his attempt.

Well, Jonathan thought as he settled his small suitcase on the curve, waiting for the car the Count had said would come for him, he was here now, and might as well make the best of it. He'd find something nice to bring back to Mina, perhaps something to put in her classroom (She was in charge of twenty unruly six-year-olds, and distraction was key to preventing total and utter collapse), and secure a good deal for Mr. Hawkins. Then, three whole weeks of Mina.

He smiled to himself.

"Mr. Harker?"

Jonathan nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He turned, eyes wide, to see a blond, tall woman looking at him with a soft smile. The woman's hair was long and flowing behind her back, the color of molten gold, and she had grey eyes that seemed to shine with a cruel light.

She was stunningly beautiful, but there was something about her that unnerved Jonathan, even if he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

"Forgive me," The woman said, voice softened by what Jonathan knew by now to recognize as a Romanian accent. "I did not mean to alarm you. You _are_ Mr. Harker, yes?"

"Oh, yes," Jonathan hurried to offer his hand to shake. The woman nodded and shook his hand, her grip oddly strong for such a soft looking woman. "And you are-?"

"Dolingen," The woman introduced herself. "I'm the Count's bride."

Bride? Jonathan inwardly shrugged. Probably a translation error. She must have meant to say wife.

"It's good to meet you, Ms. Dolingen," Jonathan said promptly.

"And you as well," Dolingen smiled, eyes trailing over Jonathan. "The Count is quite…eager to make your acquaintance. I see now he will not be disappointed."

Again, Jonathan decided it would be a good idea not to speak.

"Come along, then," Dolingen motioned Jonathan after her and led him to a large, expensive looking black car. She opened the door and took hold of Jonathan's suitcase. "Get in, darling boy."

It was hard to believe that the woman could be more than a few years older than him. Careful not to roll his eyes, Jonathan slipped into the back seat of the car.

*

"You must have thought it was odd, that she spoke of you as though you were younger than her," Van Helsing pointed out, and Jonathan snorted.

"I get that a lot, actually."

"Ah, that's because you have a charming air of innocence to you, Mr. Harker."

"I'm twenty-seven, you know."

Van Helsing merely smiled, "Continue?"

*

"Here we are."

Jonathan rubbed his eyes and looked up as the car came to a stop. They'd been driving for hours, most of the time in near-pleasant silence. He wasn't sad that the ride was over, though. It was late at night, and Jonathan wanted to interduce himself to the Count and then hopefully get some time alone before the day's work.

"Thank you for the ride, Ms. Dolingen," Jonathan said politely, climbing out of the car and taking his suitcase from the blond woman.

"Come with me," Dolingen said, and Jonathan looked up to see where he would be staying for the next week or so.

It was a castle. A bloody castle. An actual bloody castle. A castle sitting on a mountain top, underneath which ran a long and glistening river, which other than the castle had no human-created buildings. It was entirely covered by trees and flora, and a pebble road that the car had been driven on.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Dolingen hummed, and walked over to the large door. "Come, I'll take you to the count."

Jonathan nodded, dragging his suitcase after him and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He walked after Dolingen as she opened the huge door, making a loud, creaking sound that sent a shiver down Jonathan's spine. He couldn’t help but think that this door did not sound as though it had been opened much in the past years. Jonathan shook his head and walked into the castle.

It was dark, and cold. There were a few flickering candles, that illuminated a large hall with a few hallways on either side shrouded in complete blackness. In front of Jonathan was a huge staircase, and on the top of the staircase stood a man.

He was shrouded in darkness, so it was hard to get a clear view of him. but Jonathan can tell that he's tall and thin, holding a thin cane in front of him.

"Mr. Harker, I presume," Unlike Dolingen, the man who must be the count's accent was only vaguely Romanian. He must have been practicing, because he sounded rather English.

"Um, yes, sir," Jonathan said. He had the odd feeling that he ought to bow down.

"Very good. Welcome to Castle Dracula, _unul_ _tanar_ ," The man said, beckoning Jonathan up the stairs. "Come here."

Jonathan decided that wordlessly obeying would be the wise thing to do. As he did, he started to see the Count clearer. He was an older looking man, with long white hair and doll eyes. His nose was hooked and ears pointed, and as he openeed his mouth slightly Jonathan saw rather sharp teeth. He was one of those old men on whose face you could see the handsome young man he once was. Mina's father had that quality, as well, which of course makes perfect sense, since Mina looked like him, and Mina was the most beautiful woman in the world.

The Count took Jonathan to the room he'd be using, which was quite large and well apointed. They talked for a while, and Jonathan, who'd been getting slightly nervous throughout the ride and arrival to the castle, found himslef calming down again. The count had made a rather dramatic entrance, but he turned out to be an incredibly intellgent man, who spoke with a calm that Jonathan quite enjoyed, and he found hismelf talking to him untill his eyes were starting to close on their own accord.

Dolingen came into the room at some point, with a tray of simple foods and some drinks. But there was only one plate and cup.

"Eat, Mr. Harker," The count waved his hand elegantly. "Drink, rest. I should not have kept you awake so long. You must be exhausted, and starving as well."

"Oh," Jonathan blinked. "A bit, yes. But what about you…?"

"I have already eaten," The Count replied, smirking.

Jonathan inwardly shrugged, it wasn't his place to question his host. It was a bit odd to eat in front of the Count without him eating as well, but he'd been in odder situations and had odder clients he needed to plicate (being the most junior member of the firm also meant he had to deal with _those_ kinds of clients), so he once again shrugged mentally (he was doing quite a bit of that in Castle Dracula) and began eating.

Nothing else odd happened until the Count rose from his seat to leave the room.

"Oh, and one last thing," Count Dracula said, hand on the door, preparing to leave. "During the night, I would like you to stay in your rooms. Go to the library, it's in the corridor. But don't go anywhere else. This castle can be quite dangerous for those who do not belong in it."

And with that not-at-all ominous warning, he was off.

And that was the point that Jonathan stopped to mentally shrug.

*

"So, he was not alone in the castle?"

Jonathan looked up at Agatha from his tray of food. It had arrived a few minutes earlier, carried by a clearly anxious Mina. But Agatha (he was calling her Agatha now, it seemed appropriate since he was sharing with her things he did not feel comfortable sharing with his partner) had simply thanked Mina and informed her that they weren't done, and probably wouldn't be for a few good hours at least. So Mina had nodded, kissed Jonathan's forehead, and left again.

"No, he was not alone," Jonathan shook his head, and swallowed. "There was Doligen and…."

"And?" Agatha prompted.

Jonathan breathed out, "And the other two."

*

Jonathan woke up the next day at around midday, and went in search of the library the Count had mentioned. He found it almost right away, the third door after his own, and nearly had a nerdgasm when he saw it. It was incredible, huge and cozy, with soft and large sofas and a fire flickering in a huge fire place.

He spent the rest of the day there, reading a copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ he found in the library (there didn't seem to be any book from after the nineteenth centuries), and when night fell the door opened and the Count appeared.

"Ah, good, you found the library," The Count smiled as he moved, weakly and slowly, and settled down next to Jonathan.

They spend a few hours talking, and once again Jonathan found the man incredibly fascinating. But eventually Jonathan started yawning and the Count smirked.

"You should go to bed, Johnny. There's some food waiting for you in your room-"

*

"He called you Johnny?"

Jonathan folded his napkin over and over again, and nodded.

"And did that…not seem a bit presumptuous of him? Rather familiar?"

"It should have," Jonathan admitted. "But. It didn't."

Agatha nodded thoughtfully, "Do you know why?"

Jonathan sighed deeply, "I was already half in a dream, I think."

"Yes," Agatha said gently. "I suppose you were, in a way. Tell me what happened that night. About the others in the castle."

Jonathan closed his eyes, "I went to my room, first, but found I couldn't fall asleep. So, I got up again and decided to go searching the castle. I left the hallway, but there really wasn't much to see. Every room looked more or less the same. It didn't seem like anyone lived in the castle. I was tired, eventually, in one of the rooms, so I sat down and fell asleep."

*

"He's so _young_."

"Yes, isn't he? Oh, how did the Count get him? It's been so long since we've seen something so…beautiful."

Jonathan's eyes flickered open, and he looked up. There were two young women above him, both with dark skin, black hair and the same equine nose that the Count had. One of the women was leaning over his chair, right over him, while the other was peeking behind her. The woman above Jonathan had a black dress on and ponytail, while the other was dressed in white and her hair was flowing behind her. Both of the women's clothing were ancient looking.

They looked as beautiful as a dream, and perhaps they were ones. Perhaps Jonathan was in a dream.

"Oh, and look at his eyes!" Ponytail woman purred. "So blue."

"Brandusca," The other woman growled and opened her mouth, exposing…

Fangs.

Her teeth were fanged.

There was a part of Jonathan that knew he should be horrified, but he wasn't, and most of him did not care. All he cared about was that they were about to penetrate him, about to sink their teeth into him and he wanted it so badly he was ready to cry.

They were so beautiful.

"He's not just for you."

"Hush, Ruxandra, there's enough for both of us," The woman called Brandusca said sharply.

"Yes, he's stron-" Ruxandra's voice trailed off, and her eyes grew wide as she looked at Jonathan. There was a moment of silence, and then the two women howled like wounded cats.

Lighting fast, a hand swept out from behind Jonathan, hitting the woman with clawed fangs, and they screeched in horrifying pain and scrambled backwards.

"What do you think you're doing?!"

The bellowing voice came from behind Jonathan, and he recognized the Count as someone placed a hand over his hair, tightening harshly enough to cause him to cry out in pain. But it was not enough to wake hm from the odd half dream the beautiful women had put him in.

"How _dare_ you touch him? Did I not tell you that he belongs to me? Don't touch him, don't look at him, don’t think about him too hard. Do I need to lock you up again, hmm?"

"We're hungry!" Brandusca screeched. "He's young and strong, he can feed all of us. Please, do you want us to starve?"

"Well, to be perfectly frank. Right now, yes," The hand in Jonathan's hair lessened its grip and became more like a horrifying imitation of a caress. Jonathan could feel long nails scraping against his scalp, breaking the skin, and blood began to seep through his hair, down his forehead.

At the sight of the blood, the two women in front of him underwent a transformation so terrifying Jonathan could not credit it to be real. Suddenly, their eyes flashed black and red, and their skin became harder somehow. They hissed, eyes trained on the blood trickling down to Jonathan's cheek.

When Jonathan had been a child, he'd been walking home from his gran's place, which took him through the woods, and encountered a rabbit. The two of them had frozen and looked at one another for a moment. There was a look of utter horror in the animal's eyes that had chilled the young boy to the merrow, but before he could wrap his little mind around it, the animal was off again.

Jonathan had stood there, watching the spot where the animal had disappeared into the woods, when there was a howl and suddenly a red fox had appeared, darting after the rabbit. It was only then that Jonathan had realized what the rabbit had been afraid off. But he'd never been able to fully understand the horror of a creature who knew they were close to behind devoured.

He knew now.

The black-haired women screeched once more, shaking their heads, and then Ruxandra screamed, "Let us have him! Let us have a few drops, please!"

Jonathan gasped in utter shock when suddenly a cold finger was touching his skin, and he turned to see the Count slipping his finger (now covered in Jonathan's blood) into his mouth and sucking on it.

"Dracula," There was a new voice in the room now. Doligen. Jonathan couldn't turn to see her, eyes transfixed on the Count, who, he was sure, was _changing_ in front of him. "Give them something to drink. They're thirsty."

"Oh, I have something for them," Dracula waved a hand, staring down at Jonathan. "I'd have given it to them any moment now, but they couldn't wait, could they? Really, Doli. I'm disappointed in them."

"Give them the food, then."

Dracula placed his hand over Jonathan's head, tilting it to the side. He leaned in, and now there was a _tongue_ on Jonathan's cheek, licking the blood and-

"Dracula, please!" One of the identical women screeched.

The tongue slipped away from Jonathan's cheek (he almost cried in relief), and the Count looked Jonathan in the eye. Jonathan whimpered; he had not been imagining it. The Count was changing, he was younger looking now.

"Women, such a handful, aren't they?" Dracula rolled his eyes, caressing Jonathan's cheek with a thumb. "Will you excuse me for a second, darling?"

Jonathan whimpered.

"I'll take that as a yes," Dracula ruffled Jonathan's bloody hair and stood up, walking away. After a moment, he came back into view, holding a bag.

The young man looked at the bag, and tried to convince his catatonic mind that no, it wasn't moving. The bag wasn't moving.

But then it began crying.

"Give it," Doligen whispered, and suddenly she looked as mad as the other two. "Give it here."

"It's a baby," Jonathan gasped, before he could stop himself. No, no, no. It was baby. Oh, God, God, a baby-

"There is no baby, Johnny," The Count said absentmindly, opening the bag and taking out a blue-eyed blonde-haired baby girl dressed in a pink dress.

"Please, don’t give them the baby," Jonathan whispered, shaking his head.

"Johnny, my dear, there is no baby," Dracula sighed, as if put upon, and then rolled his eyes as the three women crawled towards him, snapping their teeth. "A bit of patience, ladies, please."

"Dracula-"

"There's no baby, Johnny, no baby," Dracula sing-songed, and then let the baby go.

"No!" Jonathan screamed as the baby fell. Doligen grabbed the baby's arm while Brandusca caught her leg and they pulled the poor, beautiful baby into different directions-

Jonathan managed to close his eyes just in time, but he couldn't close his ears.

"Oh, Johnny, it's hard, I know," Dracula's mock-affectionate voice purred into his ear. "But they won't touch you. So, that's good, right?"

Jonathan's reaction had been to faint.

*

Agatha looked on Jonathan while he wiped his eyes and looked out the window. It was midday, now. He still had a lot of hours before sundown.

"It is not your fault, what happened to that child."

Jonathan shook his head, "I couldn't move."

"Yes," Agatha said, not patiently at all. "That is what I said." 

"I should have been able to-"

"You said you could not."

"Yes, but-"

"Then you could not. There," Agatha nodded. "Go on, then. What happened when you woke up?"

Jonathan sighed and huddled into the blankets, closing his eyes and continuing.

*

When he woke up, he wasn't in his bed. He was in different one, a much larger one. This bed was a four poster, surrounded by flowing white curtains. The sheets, pillows and blankets were white as well, and Jonathan found himself thinking, before he could stop himself, _isn't this rather like a marriage bed?_

"Johnny, there you are."

Jonathan gasped in fear, turning his head to see a manly figure sitting behind the curtain. He couldn't see more than the general shape of the person there, holding a glass full of something red. He didn't need to see more than that to know who was sitting there. It had only been a few hours (it had been years, it had been weeks, it had been so very long), but he recognized the Count.

"I thought we'd lost you," He sounded different, Jonathan thought. He sounded much stronger, and younger (he'd only been weak for a bit, he'd always been strong). "Just for a moment there."

"What am I doing here?" Jonathan whispered, and sat up. Or, at least, tried too. But when he did, he felt a shooting pain going through his stomach, and collapsed back to the bed, gasping in pain.

"Well, I found you downstairs, asleep on the floor," The Count said, unbothered as Jonathan shoved the sheets covering him to the side. He was dressed in his black boxers and white undershirt. His clothes had been taken off.

And his shirt wasn't white, anymore. At least not all of it. It had large spots of red on it.

"I could be wrong, but I think you were having a nightmare," Jonathan turned his horrified eyes away from the bloodied undershirt to the curtain around the bed, seeing it move, and the Count appeared.

But it couldn't be the Count. It could not be Dracula. Because this man was around forty, with black hair and dark eyes. He was handsome and strong looking and not at all like the Dracula Jonathan had seen when he fainted, and even less like the Dracula that had met Jonathan when he arrived at the castle (and of course it was Dracula, and he'd fainted weeks ago. Hadn't he?).

"You do look rather pale."

Jonathan blinked, and stared at the wine glass in Dracula's hand, and blurted out, "What kind of wine is that?"

"Oh, no darling, I don’t drink."

"But-"

"Wine," Dracula sipped from the cup and put it to the side, sitting on the bed in front of Jonathan. He grinned at Jonathan and tapped him on the nose. "I don't drink wine."

"What did you do to me?" Jonathan whispered. "Why am I bleeding?"

"Ah, yes," Dracula said and placed his hands on Jonathan's undershirt, tearing it apart. Jonathan gasped in pain, and looked down at his stomach.

It was full of long, deep gashes, all even and nearly elegant in their lining. It seemed as though someone had run a knife through Jonathan's abdomen, over and over again.

A knife, or perhaps some sharp fingernails.

"You'll forgive me, I'm sure," Dracula said cheerfully, and put his fingernail on Jonathan's chest, right above his nipple. "It was rather necessary."

Jonathan cried out in pain as his skin was breeched and blood started trickling down-

*

"He did not drink directly from you."

Jonathan closed his mouth, and turned to look at Agatha, "I'm sorry?"

"He did not bite you, and drink from you that way? He cut you, and then drank from the blood?"

"Yes," Jonathan frowned. "Does it matter?"

"It does," Agatha nodded. "His bite has some…influencing powers on its victims. It seems he did not want to inflict you with such influence. Perhaps he wanted your mind more…free."

"I did not feel free."

"No, I'm sure you did not. Continue?"

*

"Ah, wonderful," Dracula sighed. "Just one more time, tonight."

He leaned over Jonathan's body and licked on his skin, cleaning it of blood, and then moving down to his nipple and Jonathan whimpered as the Count's lips closed over it and he sucked.

"Stop," Jonathan gasped, kicking the air as he tried to shake the Count off as his hand slipped down, down his chest. "No-"

But then his voice was choked off when Dracula's hand gasped his cock above his underpants, and slipped his mouth away from his now rock-hard nipple to look up at him.

"Look at you, my Johnny," Dracula grinned. "Only two weeks here and already-"

*

"It had not been two weeks."

"It might have, I'm not sure. I don't know," Jonathan bit his lip. "I remember so many things…I remember him coming into my room and watching me sleep, and I remember him bleeding me, and Doligen trying to touch me, and him slashing her throat for it. And I remember talking to him, and dreams where I was making love to Mina and suddenly it changed to him. I remember him picking me up and placing me on his lap and reading to me while he drained my blood. I remember him carrying me around. And I don't know what came first and what came later and-"

"All right," Agatha said quietly, and placed her hand over Jonathan's. "It's all right. The timing doesn’t matter."

He swallowed and nodded, finding his body shivering, "All right, then."

*

"-you're so responsive to me."

He sounded so pleased, Jonathan wanted to cry. But he knew Dracula would enjoy that. So instead he asked, "Are you going to kill me?"

"Of course I'm going to kill you," Dracula said with a sigh, starting to move his hand up and down Jonathan's clothed cock. "Why does death always come as such a shock to mortals?"

Jonathan nodded, and threw his head backwards onto the pillow. He knew what would happen now. He just hoped his death would come sooner rather then later.

"You're a monster," He just wanted to let the vampire know.

"And you're a lawyer. Nobody's perfect."

Jonathan caught his breath in his throat as the clawed fingers slipped past his boxers and grasped his cock, tugging hard. It hurt, but it also sent a thrill through Jonathan. Dracula made him feel pleasure more intense then anything else had ever done.

Even Mina.

"I should have asked you this before," Dracula said in a conversational tone as his glass filled with Jonathan's blood. "But have you ever been buggered?"

Jonathan whimpered, pleasure and pain mixing in his mind until he couldn’t tell one from the other. He wondered if he was about to die now, in the middle of a bloodletting. He wished it would have been another time, he did not want to die while being pleasured by someone who was not his fiancé.

"Johnny," Dracula sing songed, licking the last traces of Jonathan's blood from his chest. "Johnny answer me."

"No," Jonathan didn't have much will left, but he had enough to do that.

"Don't be impolite, young man," Dracula grabbed the hair on Jonathan's skull and pulled backwards, exposing his neck. "When I bugger you, I want to know if I'd be first one in there."

"No!"

"No?" Dracula bit Jonathan's ear, but not hard enough to break the skin, continuing to pump Jonathan's cock. "No, I won't be the first one, or no-"

*

Jonathan closed his mouth, and shook his head, "I don't remember anything else from that, Agatha."

"That's all right," Agatha said gently. "You've told me enough."

"All right," Jonathan rubbed his eyes, feeling tears trickling down yet again. "Is…have you heard enough of everything?"

"Jonathan," Agatha pushed a strand of dark hair behind Jonathan's ear, in a rather maternal fashion. Jonathan nearly melted into it. "I need to know how you escaped."

"I…" Jonathan took a deep breath. "All right."

*

Jonathan decided he needed to kill Count Dracula when he woke up in a strange room, curled around the warm body of a naked young girl. But when he gasped and scrambled away from the girl, he realized that she was dead, her throat slashed open.

He was covered in blood, and not his own. He had not grown weaker; Dracula had not taken more blood from him that night. It was hers. He'd been there when she'd died, and her blood had spilled on him.

At this point, Jonathan had been dehydrated and starving. He wasn't sure how long it had been since Dracula had left food for him in his room, but far too long. And put together with the rate he was losing blood, it was clear to Jonathan that he had a few hours before he didn't have the energy to move anymore.

A few days earlier, Jonathan had been wondering around the castle during the day, trying to find a way out, or perhaps just trying to stop himself from falling asleep. When he slept, the night came quicker, and the night brought Dracula to him. He'd found a room with a large, beautiful casket in it. The sight of the casket had caused such horror to Jonathan (he'd been sure it was for him), that he'd run out of the room and not looked back. But he hadn't been able to stop thinking about the casket.

He wasn't sure how, but he _knew_ that Dracula had been in there. He'd been able to feel his presence.

So, once Jonathan decided to kill Dracula, he knew where to go. It took him some time (he saw everything double, and every time he leaned down he nearly fainted, things of that nature tended to slow things down), but he finally managed to locate a shovel-

*

"A shovel. You were going to attempt to kill Dracula with a shovel."

"It seemed better than my bare hands."

"That's true."

*

-and attempted to carry it to the room with the casket. But the added weight of the shovel proved too much for Jonathan's depleted body and he collapsed on the ground.

Jonathan groaned and tried to sit up, but the movement caused him to throw up (though there was nothing but bile in him at that point), the pain in his stomach far too great to bear. So instead of sitting up, Jonathan bit his lip hard and began to crawl on the floor, dragging the shovel with him.

He could feel the wounds on his stomach opening again, and realized he was leaving a trail of blood behind him. It was bound to bring the three female creatures, but Jonathan could not find it in himself to care at all. There was nothing on his mind anymore, nothing that mattered but his one mission. He must get to the casket, and he must kill the Count.

And he managed to get to the casket, somehow. Clawing and gasping and nearly dead, but he got there. But then, as he tried to shove it open, suddenly the casket lid was thrown off and the Count sat up, looking down at him.

"Oh, Johnny, my dear, dear Johnny," The Count grinned as he slipped out of the casket, towering over Jonathan, who dropped his shovel and stared up at the Count.

He found that he was not afraid anymore. He was going to be killed now, he was sure, and even if Dracula did not kill him, blood loess would do the work for him.

"And I thought you'd outgrown your entertainment value," Dracula's smile shifted, grew far more frightening to Jonathan. Suddenly, Dracula was not smiling at Jonathan in amusement. He was looking at him with fondness.

Almost as though he cared for him. And that made Jonathan think that perhaps he would not be getting his longed-for death.

"But look at you go," Dracula leaned forward and swept Jonathan into his arms, placing his head on Dracula's broad chest. "You know something, my dear?"

He looked down at Jonathan, as though expecting a response. But even if he had energy for that, he wouldn't have, so Dracula rolled his eyes and went on.

"I'm going to keep you."

_No._

"You are staying," Dracula cupped Jonathan's chin, his long fingernails scratching Jonathan's skin, nearly breaking it.

 _No. No, please just kill me, please-_ Jonathan couldn't speak, but his thoughts must have been clear in his eyes since Dracula sighed and caressed his chin, as though trying to calm him.

"Shh, it's all right. Do not look so concerned, my Jonathan. You're going to live forever. Most people would be rather excited by such a prospect."

Jonathan whimpered, and fainted again.

*

There was a knock on the door, and Jonathan turned his eyes pleadingly to Agatha. He was tired, and frightened, and the very small amount of energy he had left he wanted to keep for his recital. He did not have any left to allocate to dealing with any other humans, and felt entirely safe in handing Agatha that power.

Agatha read the pleading in his eyes clearly and gave him a reassuring smile, calling out, "Who is it?"

The door opened and Mina peered in, looking worried and unsure of her welcome. Jonathan was not sure if he _would_ welcome her. It was daytime still, and as such there was no bat at the window. Still, he did not want Mina anywhere near him, knowing it would draw the ire of the creature hovering over him.

"Miss Murray," Agatha said warmly, placing her hand over Jonathan's. "Can we help you?"

"I," Mina swallowed and turned to Jonathan, trying to smile gently. Jonathan knew her well enough to know she was attempting to hide her uncertainty and fear. "Are you close to being done? The police said I can take Jonathan home-"

"No, Mina," Jonathan gasped. "You can't go home. Promise me you won't-"

"Perhaps it would be best for you to remain in the hospital for now," Agatha interrupted. "Mr. Harker and I should be done very soon. No, Mr. Harker?"

"Y-Yes," Jonathan whispered, and had to turn away from Mina. He could not bare to look at her, and see that she was looking at him the way she always had. With such love and devotion, as though he were still the same man he had been when she saw him off to Dracula. He was not that man anymore. He was a creature of Dracula's own making. "Stay here, Mina, please."

"I'll stay," Mina said weakly. "Will you…but will you tell me what has happened to you, what that creature was?"

"That creature, Miss Murray, was a vampire," Agatha said promptly. "But as for Jonathan's experiences, I am not sure it would be wise for you to hear of it. Enough for you to know that Jonathan is safely back in your arms, and we shall insure that none will touch him again."

Jonathan didn't turn as Mina said softly, "All right then. I'll be outside, darling Johnathan," and closed the door behind her.

"I'm not," He said quietly, turning to look at Agatha.

"Not what? Not safe? Perhaps not fully, but I'm sure you'd agree that you're safer than you were a few days-"

"I meant," Jonathan interrupted. "I'm not back in her arms. I don't know if I ever will be."

Agatha looked at him in silence for a moment, and then gently said, "It has only been, what, three days? Jonathan, young man, you must give yourself some time."

Jonathan shook his head.

"Very well," Agatha sighed. "Shall we go back to your story?"

*

When Jonathan woke up, the first thing he saw was the sun. God, he hadn't seen the sun in…it was years. It must have been years, or at least Jonathan thought it must have been years. He was laying, back propped up against a stone wall, in a balcony. Looking down he saw that he was on a mountaintop, and under him was flowing river.

"I thought you'd want to see it, one last time," Dracula said, almost gently, as Jonathan looked at the beautiful, beautiful sun. He was sitting inside the castle, peering at Jonathan from the safety of the darkness. "Keep your eyes on it, Johnny. It will be the last time you see it. As soon as the sun sets we'll give you some of my blood and you'll be just like me. And isn't it beautiful? Almost as beautiful as you, dearest."

"Why…why won’t you just kill me?" Jonathan whispered.

"Oh, Johnny, darling, no. Why would I kill you? No one has ever tried to kill me in my sleep before. And besides, I don't think I'll ever be able to find such a beautiful specimen as you again. I don't think you realize how uniquely attractive a body you have. It's rather something."

Of all the reasons to be denied death, the idea that it would be because of how he looked was enough to give Jonathan some strength. He placed both of his open palms on the stones underneath him and pushed himself up.

He would need to be brave, now, and could hear Mina's voice in his ear, urging him on as he pulled himself up with more will then strength.

"Johnny," Dracula's voice sounded…almost scared. "Don't."

Jonathan took a deep breath.

" _S_ tay. Stay. You could be my finest bride. Johnny, you'll be like me, I'll cherish you for eternity if you merely stay-"

He jumped.

*

"That was quite brave," Agatha said. "I'm sure it was quite frightening, to jump."

"No," Jonathan replied. "It was only frightening, to think I would have to keep on living."

"Well," Agatha said promptly. "You are living now, and you will remain as such. I will ensure it. We will ensure it together. We will kill Dracula, Jonathan Harker."


	3. Of Bats and Doubts

Mina was sitting outside of Jonathan's hospital room, brooding and chewing on her fingernail. If Jonathan had been with her, he would have grabbed her wrist and brought her palm over to his lips to kiss, and ask her what was wrong, why she was ruining her pretty fingernails.

"Since I know how important you find your looks," He'd smirk, and it would be an annoying enough assumption that Mina would gasp and tackle her love.

But Jonathan wasn't here. He was close, but unaccusable to her, locked in the room alone with that odd woman, telling a story he refused to tell her. _Her_. His future wife, and he'd tell it to that stranger. And she'd seen the look in his eyes, when she came into the room. He did not want her there, it hurt him to see her. She was supposed to give him comfort, watch over him always, and her presence now hurt him.

Mina couldn't lie, it hurt. When Jonathan's father had died, he'd collapsed into her, trusting on her to care for him and keep the rest of the world at bay while he mourned. And Mina, who had cared for Jonathan Harker Senior deeply (her own father had left when her mother had still been pregnant with her, so Jonathan's had easily slipped into rule of patriarch for her), found that her own grief had been lessened greatly because of the need to focus fully on Jonathan's grief and keep him safe from himself. She'd hoped, Mina was self-aware enough to admit, that she'd be able to do the same now to deal with the loss of Mina.

There was a part of her that was rather upset at Jonathan for denying her that. But mostly she was upset with Van Helsing for taking him away from her.

And she was scared. Scared of the vampire hounding Jonathan, of course. But mostly scared by the prospect of losing Jonathan. The vampire-Dracula- wanted her Jonathan. And she'd been able to tell, from the way he looked at him, that his need for Jonathan was frighteningly strong. That he wouldn't give up on him. Not easily. They would have to destroy him to keep Jonathan safe.

Keep him away from the man who considered himself Jonathan's husband. It made her wonder what had happened in that castle, to make him think that-

No. She wouldn’t think like that. It didn't matter what had happened, he was still her Jonathan, and she would keep him.

"Miss Murray."

Mina startled and turned. The door to Jonathan's had opened a crack, and Agatha Van Helsing was sticking her head out of it, brown hair tumbling down past her shoulder. Her eyes were shadowed now, and she looked exhausted. Mina could understand, she was exhausted as well.

"Is everything all right?" Mina asked immediately. "Is Jonathan-"

"Mr. Harker has fallen asleep," Van Helsing interrupted. "It has been a hard day for him."

"For all of us," Mina mumbled, and looked at her watch. It was around four now, night would not be far away. "May I come in?"

"Why would you not be able to?"

"I-I wouldn't know," Mina blinked, unsure of how to answer that question.

"Hmm," Van Helsing opened the door wide and gestured Mina in, which Mina did immediately. She found that, as Van Helsing had said, Jonathan had fallen asleep, blanket tucked right up to his chest, as though someone had pulled it over him. Mina did not like to think that Van Helsing had done so, but there was no one else, and there was no mistaking the maternal look of concern she was throwing the blue-eyed man. "I need you to do something for me, Miss Murray."

"What?" Mina blinked, sitting down on the bed next to Jonathan and pushed his hair out of his forehead, carefully and gently, so as not to wake him. "I…what?"

"Miss Murray, concentrate, please," Van Helsing said sharply. "I give you my word that Mr. Harker is unhurt. Now listen, you must call Lord Holmwood and inform him that he must find a house that he had never been to, and buy it. Then, he and the doctor must go there, and remain inside until we arrive, and not allow a soul in. Is that clear?"

Mina rubbed her teary eyes, frightened by the exhaustion clear in the lines on Jonathan's face, "Why?"

"Because we must fight Dracula, and Jonathan has insisted they be involved. Since he says it is their right, being Lucy's…lovers. Both of them, hmm?"

"Yes," Mina replied, and breathed deeply. "I'll tell them."

"Good. We must get to the not inconsiderable task of staking Count Dracula in the heart."

*

Arthur Holmwood had seen a lot of odd things in his life. He was a cop, after all, as well as a minor Lord. Which meant he was both versed in the world of London's criminal underground and the world of London's elite. It was sometimes hard to decide which was the odder. Though which was easier to deal with was not hard to decides at all.

But of all the odd things he'd seen in his life, his Jack rambling about Lucy being killed by a swarm of bats was y far the oddest. And most terrifying. Jack was always the most grounded of the three of them, keeping the other, somewhat flightier members of their trio in line. And now, with Lucy gone (not dead, Arthur refused to believe she was dead), Arthur needed grounding as he never did before. Instead of providing it, however, Jack had spent the past few days hovering around Arthur, like a child terrified to be left alone by his papa. It disturbed Arthur greatly.

Right now Jack was sitting, curled into himself in the living room of the apartment Arthur had rented out from the real-estate wife of a cop friend of his. He hadn't been sure why Mina had requested that, but when he'd told Jack, his lover had nodded empathically and demanded that Arthur do as Mina said, a look of utter focus in his eyes. It had been the most emotion Arthur had seen out of him since Lucy disappeared, other then then the fear he'd shown whenever Arthur was more then a few meters away from him. Arthur had wanted to see that look again, so he'd gotten the apartment.

"Jack," Arthur said hesitantly, leaning down in front of Jack. The setting sound was illuminating Jack's tired face and wild brown hair. Lucy often said that Jack looked the part of the mad scientist. Not that Jack agreed with that characterization of himself. "Darling."

Jack blinked, and looked up at him, "Jonathan and Mina-"

"They're on their way, sweetheart," Arthur said immediately.

Nodding, Jack looked out the window, "They'll be here soon? You know if they will? They have to be here before the sun sets, Arthur. They must."

"Jack," Arthur shook his head. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Vampires aren't real, all right? And Lucy's just missing-"

"Lucy is dead, and a vampire killed her," Jack interrupted. "Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I do, sweetheart," Arthur said gently just as he heard the front door open, and turned to see Mina walking in (she'd told him to keep the door open, and not invite her in), followed closely by the Hungarian cop who'd come to talk to Jonathan. Who came in last and carefully closed the door, locking it.

"John," Jack jumped up, so quickly that Arthur nearly yelped in surprise. He looked, a bit perturbed, as Jack rushed over to the exhausted looking Jonathan and pulled him over to the sofa, forcing him down so he was laying. "Are you all right?"

"Um," Jonathan didn't look at all surprised by Jack's actions. Neither was Arthur. Jack was a doctor, he had an unstoppable need to care for others, and always gravitated towards the weakest person in the room, to help them. At the moment, Arthur wasn't entirely sure if that person was Jack or Jonathan. But Jack didn’t know how to care for himself. Arthur and Lucy always had to bloody force him to stop working, before he collapsed. Lucy was better at that then Arthur. She had built up on ammunity to his puppy-dog eyes, his pleading that, 'it's all right, just a few more hours, I promise'. Arthur found it hard to resist Jack, but he would have to. Until Lucy was back, that was his responsibility. She would never forgive him when she returned, were she to find he'd allowed Jack to work himself into an early grave. "I'm all right, Jack."

"Right," Jack mumbled, pulling a blanket over Jonathan as Mina came to sit on the floor next to Jonathan's head and leaned hers down over Jonathan's chest. "'Course you are. The sun's about to come down."

They exchanged a look, and Jonathan turned away, biting his lip.

"Stop," Arthur sighed, placing his hand on Jack's shoulder protectively. "Nothing is going to happen when the sun comes down."

"Oh, something will happen," Van Helsing said sharply, sitting down on a chair. "Though I don't think it will happen here."

"You don't think he knows where we are now?" Mina asked as she caressed Jonathan's hair. Arthur was more then a little taken aback to see Jonathan nearly wincing away from Mina. This was not the norm for them, it was odd.

"He will very soon, I am sure. But no, not at the moment," Van Helsing replied. "It will take him a few days, I'm sure, to find us. But we must make sure to keep our location as secret as possible. No need to make things easier for him, is there?"

"You said we were going to kill him," Jonathan said, suddenly sitting up. "How?"

Van Helsing looked at him thoughtfully, and then said, "He needs to sleep in soil from the land of his birth. If he doesn’t have that, he'll end up dead. So. We find the soil he brought from Transylvania and destroy it. Jonathan, tell me where he's staying."

Jonathan blinked and looked up at her, "I highly doubt he'll actually stay there."

"So do I, but we must start somewhere, mustn't we?"

"Yes, Jonathan said quietly. "We must."

"But not tonight," Van Helsing said briskly. "Tonight we stay in, and keep an eye out. Yes?"

"No!" Arthur snapped, having had enough. He stood up and pointed at the woman, "I don't know who you are, and I don’t know what it is that you bloody want. But I will not allow you to-"

"To what?" The woman seemed entirely unruffled by Arthur's anger. That wasn't something he was used to. "Save the life of your friend? Do you not care for Jonathan's wellbeing, Detective?"

"Oh, I care," Arthur sneered. "I care enough not to indulge in…"

He shook his head, unsure of what exactly what it was happening in Jonathan's mind.

"Artie-"

"Enough, Jack!" Arthur snapped. "I don't bloody know what's happening to the two of you, but I will not allow you to pretend that we're being hunted by a bloody vampire and that Lucy is dead!"

He hadn't meant to scream, he hadn't. And when he finished, a ringing silence swept through the room. Jonathan had sat up, watching Arthur with his intelligent, all-seeing eyes. And Mina had shrunk into Jonathan, holding his hand as though to protect him. Jack, though, had a look of awful disappointment as he watched Arthur.

Swallowing, Arthur shook his head and whispered, "Lucy isn't dead. She isn’t."

His love took a deep breath and walked over, placing a hand on Arthur's cheek and said softly, "Please. Believe me."

"No," Arthur shook his head. "She's not dead. She isn’t."

"Artie-"

Arthur shook his head and pushed Jack away, storming towards the door. But as his hand touched the doorknob, there was a shriek from behind him. Horrified by the sound, Arthur turned just in time to see Jonathan stumbling out of the sofa. And before he could move, he was grabbed by the laple and thrown on the floor.

"John!" Jack and Mina cried at the same time. But Van Helsing just looked down at Arthur, looking rather amused.

"Don't open the door," Jonathan wasn't asking. He was _commanding_. And Arthur froze. "You'll all die if you do. So. You won't open the door."

"All right," Arthur whispered, as Jack rushed to help him up. He couldn't look away from Jonathan, had never seen him like this, so intense and frightening. "I'll stay in."

And it was only after Jonathan had rushed out of the room, followed by Mina. that Arthur realized that Jonathan had said 'you'll all die.'

As though Jonathan wasn't in danger of dying himself.


	4. Of Bats and Clever Little Girls

The knock on the door made Arthur jump, and he cursed silently. Bloody hell, the others' paranoia was getting to him. He really should have left with Jack earlier; this wasn't good for either of them. But now it was too late, he could tell that Jack wasn't going to leave until the sun came up again.

Because he was afraid.

Of vampires.

Fuck. Arthur rubbed his face. Bloody hell, it was as though they were all collectively losing their fucking minds.

There was another knock on the door, making Arthur sigh and look down at his partner. Jack ws sleeping on the sofa, snoring softly. He didn't want him to wake up, not now that he'd finally fell asleep. So he walked over to the door and peered through the peep hole, and his eyes widened. There was a child down there, a shivering, soaking wet child.

Arthur placed his hand on the door knob, and then hesitated for a moment.

Van Helsing, Mina, Jack and John had all been quite adamant about keeping stranger out of the house- but this was a bloody child, and a very clearly scared bloody child.

Now, Arthur wasn't Jack, with his need to care for every bloody person he came across, and he wasn't Mina with her never ceasing love of children. But as Jonathan had once ever so elegantly put it (and Lucy had agreed to), he wasn't a dick, either. Shaking his head, Arthur opened the door.

"Are you all right?" He asked the shivering child, looking down at her and unsure exactly what he should do. "Where are your parents, darling?"

The girl shook her head, pointing at her ear.

"Oh," Arthur mumbled, then quickly moved from the doorframe. "Come in then. We'll give your parents a ring, yeah?"

The girl took a step in, and immediately all hell broke loose.

"What did you do?!" Mina's horrified scream seemed to pierce through Arthur, making him nearly jump out of his skin as the living room was suddenly filled.

"I told you, did I not, not to allow anyone in the house?" Van Helsing sneered and pushed Jonathan behind her.

Before Arthur could quite figure out what was happening, Van Helsing was suddenly shoving a silver cross in front of the terrified little girl who huddled behind Arthur for safety.

"What an _earth_ are you doing?" Arthur demanded, placing a protective hand on the girl's shoulder.

"It's not him," Jonathan said, voice shaking. "He can't handle crosses."

"Yes," Van Helsing put the cross away and looked down at the girl. "Perhaps she is just a child, then."

"Of course she's-"

"Artie, hush," Jack said, and walked past Arthur to lean down next to the girl. "If we've established this is a child, may I get her out of these wet clothes?"

The girl suddenly burst into tears and zipped towards the window.

Arthur was far too stunned to move, and it seemed everyone else was, as well. Except for Jonathan. Jonathan leaped forward and scooped the girl up into his arms. She thrust for a few moments but then grew entirely limp, hugging Jonathan's neck like he was the only thing keeping her from death.

"You can't let him in," Jonathan whispered in the girl's ear, though it didn't seem she as if she could understand. "I'm sorry, but he'd kill you too."

*

Jonathan and Mina took the girl into their bedroom, where Jonathan made sure the blinds were still shut while he waited for Mina to take the girl into the bathroom to clean up. They emerged a few minutes later with the girl now dressed in a shirt of Mina's, which for the girl was rather more of a nightgown.

They figured out after a bit of fumbling that while she didn't know British Sign Language (which Mina knew a bit of due to her work), the girl did know how to read and write English (it seemed like a bit of an oversight of the girl's parents). So Jonathan took out his iPad and they were off.

Her name was Yamini Sharma, she was twelve years old and moved to England form Delhi a few weeks earlier. Her mother had died when she had been eight, and she missed her terribly.

In return, Jonathan wrote about himself and Mina, about their jobs and how Mina worked with children and how many siblings each of them had (zero and one, respectively). At that point, Mina got up to make tea, smiling down at the girl. And it was only once she was gone that Yamini closed her eyes, seemed to center herself, and started writing about what had happened to her.

*

_Yamini, come back, the sun's coming down._

Yamini looked at the message blaring in her phone and then placed it back in her bag before continuing. She knew she should get back home, but if she did, Father would ask her about her day. Had she spoken to anyone today? Had she at least tried to make friends? Yes, she had friends back home in India, but wasn't she even going to try and do the same here in London? They were here to stay, after all.

It was easier to stay outside, where there was so much things to see. So much easier than trying to explain to her father that no, it wasn't easy to make friends here. The sign language was different, and she didn't know the British one yet. And none of her teachers could sign in a why she understood. No, she wasn't mad that they'd left, she was just tired and wanted to go to sleep. They'd gone through this conversation nearly every night since the move to England, and it usually ended with either Yamini crying or her father cursing and slamming his bedroom door shut. It wasn't fair, she understood why they'd left, she really was not mad- or at least she tried not to be. Father's work was important.

Yamini chewed her lip, pulling her hood over her head covering. It was starting to rain as she made her way out of the mall (she never bought anything, didn't want to have to deal with people's confusion over her inability to speak, she just liked seeing all the pretty clothes and incredible toys), but Yamini didn't mind, in fact she rather liked the rain. It reminded her of monsoon season, a bit.

She walked into a small alleyway, a short cut to home (even through Father had told her not to use it, it got too dark), and then saw him. A man, standing in the alley, looking upwards towards one of the buildings towering over them. The man was dark haired and rather pale, dressed in a long black coat, and he was dangerous. Her father had taught her how to tell.

Yamini froze, staring at the man, and he turned to look at her. Yamini waited for the man to try and speak to her, but instead he just smiled, and she could see his white fangs gleaming in the dark. Yamini took a step backward, feeling warm despite the rain. It was the heat of adrenalin running through her, her body telling her to run.

The creature walked towards her, the rain hitting his coat as he came to stand in front of Yamini, a phantom of darkness. She looked up with fear, mouth open in a silent gasp.

And then the creature leaned down and signed, _Hello_.

Yamini blinked, feeling a bit tired suddenly. As though she had been put to sleep and had just woken up. The creature smiled at her as Yamini blinked once again, confused and unsure of what was happening.

_Can you help me, little girl?_

Yamini shook her head, taking another step backwards, and her back hit a hard body. She startled and turned, finding a beautiful blond woman standing behind her. The woman placed a hand on Yamini's shoulder and looked at the creature. Yamini watched the two of them talk, with no way of knowing what they were speaking about. But she could tell they were talking about her, by the way they kept looking down at her, not like she was a person. Instead, they looked at her as if she was a tool they couldn't decide how or if they could use.

Eventually, the woman shoved Yamini back towards the creature, and he grabbed her chin, leaning down besides her. Yamini whimpered in pain as sharp fingernails dig into her skin. She wanted to go home, back to India. Why had they ever left? She missed it, missed her family, missed her friends-

The creature pulled Yamini's head up so they were eye to eye. He kept his hold on her and used his free one to sign, _You're going to do something for me_.

She tried to shake her head again, but she couldn’t move.

_Yes, you are, or I'm going to punch your little heart out and hand it over to your darling papa._

Yamini's breath hitched, and she felt the woman pull her hood and hair covering off. She began playing with Yamini's hair, a parody of the kind of caressing that Yamini had gotten from her mother before she'd died. The woman pulled at Yamini's hair, causing her eyes to water up in pain.

 _This is what you're going to do_ , The creature signed again. _You're going to go up to the third floor of this building._

He shoved Yamini's head to the side, pointing to one of the houses before turning her head back to him.

_You're going to knock, and ask to get in. Maybe open those big eyes of yours too, you'll look even more adorable. You really are a rather sweet looking child. And, once you're in, you're going to move to the window and invite me in. Just waving at me would do the trick. Once you'd done that, I'll let you go home. How about that?_

Yamini bit her lip, hard enough to draw blood. The creature's eyes lit up and Yamini screamed, soundless, as his finger brushed over her lip, gathering the blood up before slipping it into his mouth and sucking.

_Will you help me, sweetheart?_

Yamini nodded, knowing there was nothing else she could do.

 _After you do that, maybe I'll keep you on for a while,_ the creature signed, then grinned _. I hope that doesn’t mean I'm getting sentimental. But he'd really like a child, I think._

*

So. Dracula had found him. Already, after only a few hours. Jonathan looked down at the words, at Yamini's description of the creature. _Black,_ she wrote, _like the dead of night but darker. But also pale, like a moon but lighter._

She was an incredibly eloquent child.

But what really caught Jonathan's attention, the one piece of information that he hadn't had before, was that Doligen was in London. He really wasn't that surprised. It wasn't like Dracula could have brought Brandusca or Roxandra, neither of them could be trusted out in society, they'd expose him the first time they saw a nose bleed. And Dracula didn’t like to be alone, Jonathan had learned that about him. He needed someone there with him. Dracula had told him: _I enjoy company, and I like people._

And Jonathan had asked, shaking from exhaustion as Dracula cradled him to his chest _, then why do you kill them?_

 _Why do you pick flowers?_ Dracula had replied. _So you can have the pretty thing all for your own._

 _I don't,_ Jonathan had told Dracula while his arm was cut again. Talking helped distract from the pain _. I leave them, they wither and die if you pick them._

_Well, my darling, then you are a being made of pure light. Most people don't possess a soul as pure as yours._

Jonathan can't deny, though, that the thought of Doligen being anywhere near him filled him with dread. No matter what Dracula does, Jonathan at least knew he won't kill him. Everyone else, yes, and he'd hurt him. But he wouldn't kill him, and that gave an odd sense of security. He had no such assurances with Doligen. He had no way of knowing what the female vampire would or wouldn’t do.

Jonathan was pulled out of his thoughts by a tap on his shoulder. Starling slightly, he looked down to see Yamini pointing at the iPad.

_Are you him?_

Frowning, Jonathan typed back, _Who's him?_

_The creature said, 'he'd like a kid', are you he?_

Jonathan's fingers shivered slightly when he wrote back, _I think so._

In response, Yamini clutched Jonathan's arm like a teddy bear. He was unsure as to who this action was meant to comfort. If it was him, it was suprisngly effective for a moment.

 _Let's call your dad,_ Jonathan wrote with one hand, and Yamini nodded, handing him her phone and looking up in anticipation.

There was only a moment of ringing before the call was answered, but then there was an uncomfortable silence on the other side of the call, so Jonathan cleared his throat, "Dr. Sharma?"

"Hello there, love."

The world stopped. Yamini was frozen, looking up at him, the rain outside slowed to a crawl. All the sounds of the word faded away, and all Jonathan could think was, _there was no breathing on the other side of the call. Only silence._

He should have known.

"Have I gotten you speechless, Johnny? I rather hope not, your adorable stuttering is one of your best features."

Yamini was looking up at him with fear in her eyes. She could tell something is wrong, of course. Unable to face her confused fear, Jonathan rushed to the bedroom and locked the door behind him.

"Johnny?"

"I'm here," Johnny whispered, back pressed to the door.

"Ah, wonderful. We need to have a little chat, you and I."

"Where is Dr. Sharma?"

"Which part of him?"

Jonathan closed his eyes, slipping down with his back to the door until he hit the floor.

"You didn't have to do that," Jonathan groaned.

"Well, when you're right, you're right. I didn't _have_ to do it," Dracula's voice was somewhere between amused and affectionate. It made Jonathan sick. "But then again, I waited so patiently for that little girl to let me in. I suppose I was feeling rather left out. All the excitement was happening in your neck of the woods. I wanted a bit in mine as well."

Jonathan had to bite his lips to stop himself from crying. He refused give the monster any satisfaction.

"You all right there, love?" Dracula was purring now, and Jonathan knew what that voice meant. It made him shudder, it made him want to die, remembering nights in the castle when Dracula had come to him, using that voice, one hand trailing Jonathan's hair and the other moving down, down, slipping inside of him-

No, no, he won’t think of it, he can't.

"Johnny? You all right? Hmm, I get the feeling you aren't. And who can blame you, really. It's been rather hard on you these past few days, hasn't it? Ever since you were taken out of my loving care."

Jonathan kept his mouth shut.

"By the by, love, what are you wearing?"

 _That_ made him open it again.

"Go to hell," He sneered into the phone.

"Fair enough," He could hear the smirk raising on Dracula's face. "Absolutely fair enough. In that case, why don’t I tell you what you'll be wearing once I get you back?"

"Shut up," Jonathan whispered, shaking his head.

"Is that what you want, darling? Well, why don't you hang up then?" Dracula waited for a moment, and then growled out a command, "Don't hang up."

Jonathan stayed frozen in place.

"There's my good boy," Dracula purred.

Jonathan grit his teeth, but before he could inform Dracula where he could shove it, there was a loud knock on the door.

"Johnny? Johnny, what's going on in there?"

"Ah, that must be lovely Mina," Dracula was grinning, Jonathan could hear it, while Mina pounded on the door demanding to know what was happening. "I told you, love, women are a chore. Why don't you go calm her down a bit, she sounds rather upset. I'll speak to you later, love."

And then call went dead.

Jonathan took a few breathes, then got up and shoved the door open.

"Dracula killed Yamini's father," He said.


	5. Of Bats and The Art of Slowly Slipping Away

Once Yamini had cried herself to sleep, and Mina had tucked her into bed, she went out into the living room, wanting to be held and comforted by Johnny. Then she stopped, hovering in the background as she watched Jonathan and Agatha sitting with their back to her on the sofa, talking quietly.

There was an odd intimacy to them at the moment, and Mina felt a bit like when she stumbles on one of her students and their parents after a parent-teacher meeting and can tell they were in the middle of a conversation she has no right to be privy to.

It's an incredibly jarring sensation, a reminder that no matter how much she loves those children, how many hours a day she spends with them, they're not actually hers. They belong to their families. They have their own lives outside of her and one day will leave her behind.

But Jonathan was hers, he belonged to her alone, that was the whole point of the ring he gave her. So why did she feel at that moment like he was slipping through her fingers into another world? Another world that she couldn't follow him into?

"We cannot allow the girl to leave this apartment," Agatha was saying when Mina came into the room. She sounded so calm and business like, Mina wanted to bloody punch her. Did she not realize that this is a matter of life or death?

"No," Her poor Johnny Blue-eyes sounded so, so very tired. "As soon as she's out, he'll kill her."

"I know what you're thinking," Agatha said sharply. "But handing yourself over will accomplish nothing. Less than nothing."

"Yamini is an orphan because of me," Jonathan said dully.

"He would have killed someone else in his place, would he have not?"

Both Mina and Johnny flinched, and Jonathan mumbled, "I know."

"And if he gets you, and turns you into a creature such as himself, you'll end up killing humans for sustenance as well. More humans will die."

"I…suppose," Mina watched the back of Johnny's head slump down. "Agatha-"

"Hmm?"

"If he'd have killed Yamini and put on her skin, he would have been in already. Why didn’t he do that?"

Agatha's head tilted to the side, thinking, and then she said, "Perhaps it is a bit like when a cat plays with a mouse."

"Yes, it's that," Mina was rather horrified to hear how unsurprised Johnny sounded, as though he really should have been expecting this and is a bit disappointed at himself for not doing so. "He knows this will hurt me."

"He wants to make you come out-don't give him what he wants."

"I won't," Johnny said, but he didn't sound confident. Rather, he sounded as though he was weighing his options, and she decided that it's time to intervene.

"Johnny," She says softly, and both Agatha and her fiancé turned to look at her.

For half a second Johnny's eyes seemed full of distain, as though he wasn't pleased that she'd intervened. But then the moment passed and Johnny raised his hand to her, welcoming her.

"Yamini is asleep," Mina told him, coming to sit on Johnny's lap. This was a familiar set up for the two of them, but for some reason it made Johnny freeze entirely, like a terrified animal.

"That's good," Johnny closed his eyes and pushed Mina out of his lap. Hard. She stumbled off and moved to sit on a chair, staring at her love in shock. Johnny huddled into himself, shivering harshly. He didn't look at her, no matter how hard she worked to catch his eye.

"Is the child alright?" Agatha asked, looking between Jonathan and Mina, reading something in his eyes that Mina couldn't see. Mina had never hated anyone as much as she hated the other woman at that moment. What did she know that Mina didn't?

"She's frightened, but it will do her good to sleep," Mina replied. "Johnny, can we…can we talk?"

Johnny turned to look at her and nodded, "Yeah, of course."

Agatha frowned slightly, but then sighed and got up, placing a gentle and protective hand on Johnny's shoulder for a moment. And once again, Mina decided that she had never hated anyone as much as she hates these people. Dracula and Agatha and everyone who wanted to take Johnny away from her into a world that she could not follow him to. Then she was gone and Mina was finally alone with her fiancé.

"Johnny, please," Mina whispered, getting on her knees and placing one hand on Johnny's leg. "I know you've been through a horrific nightmare, but you cannot keep pushing me away. I can only help you if I know what happened to you, my love-"

"You don't want that, Mina, believe me," Johnny sharply pulled his leg away, leaving Mina looking up at him with wide eyes. She could not believe he'd done this. He'd never pushed her away before, no matter what. Even at the worst of his mourning over his father, Johnny always allowed Mina's touch and comfort. Even when he woke up crying in the middle of the night, ashamed as what he perceived as his weakness, he did not shrink from her. Three weeks with the Count and he was acting like her touch was fire. "You don't want to know what happened to me."

"Johnny-"

"Stop calling me that!" Johnny exploded suddenly, jumping up and looming over Mina. "Don't!"

"Don't yell at me," Mina said sharply, standing up as well. She'd been yelled at by her lovers before, men who thought they could do as they pleased if they just apologized afterwards. She refused to accept that treatment from Johnny.

And she refused to stop calling him that. He was her Johnny, and Dracula would not take that away from her.

Almost immediately, Jonathan deflated, and shook his head, "I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have… this isn't your fault. I won't do it again."

Mina swallows, but she believed him, so she pulled Jonathan's into her arms and kissed his cheek gently, "It's all right-"

"I won't do that if I were you, young lady."

Mina screamed at the unfamiliar voice, and was suddenly shoved behind Johnny. She fell on the sofa, and looked up. There was woman by the window, hovering over it.

The woman had blond hair, was dressed in a long flowing white gown and possessed a near ethereal beauty. She was terrifying, and Mina wasn't entirely sure why.

"Doligen," Johnny whispered.

"Hello, Jonathan," The woman smirked, exposing red teeth as she did so. And that was why she was so terrifying, Mina realized. Her smile wasn't human, it was an imitation of humanity, and the rest of her was the same. Every one of her movements was like that of a panther that had been put in the skin of a human and told to blend into a crowd. "Why don't you invite me in? I'm getting sick of this game."

"Tell him to go, then," Jonathan replied, sounding more confident now, on familiar ground.

"My dear little boy, do you know how long he's searched for someone like you? And now that he's found you, do you really think he'd let go?"

Johnny took a step backwards, "What are you talking about?"

"A male bride, Johnny. He's wanted one for _centuries_ , but he's never found anyone he liked enough to turn. Until he met you."

"He wants to turn me because he thinks I'm attractive," Jonathan's voice trembled. He didn't believe what he was saying (if there's one thing in the world that Mina knew, it was how to tell when Johnny isn't feeling comfortable).

"You are nearly inhumanely lovely, Jonathan. But if he told you that was why he wanted you, then he lied. Well, not lied- he doesn't do that. I'm sure your physical apparency had something to do with it. But it was certainly a half truth. A quarter one, perhaps. Not that it matters, truly. I couldn't care less about why he wants you. He does, and Dracula always gets what he wants. The only thing that will happen if you deny him is that you will incur his wrath. Come with me now, and we can end this charade."

"Johnny-" Mina gasped, clutching his hand and trying to tug him back to her. She couldn’t move him. "Don't."

"If you come with me- you don't even need to invite me in, just come outside. We'll go to him, and that will be the end of it. But if you make him wait for tomorrow night, we'll rip your little friends limb from limb and you'll watch. How's that?"

"Johnny, don't you dare go with her-"

"I'm not," Jonathan sounded dead, she'd never heard him like that. "You can go fuck yourself, Doligen. I'm going to find a way to kill you, all of you."

"Well," The woman sighed. "I tried. He can't say I didn't. I gave you a chance, Jonathan. Now it's going to be war on you all."

*

He'd thought it would be harder to convince Mina to leave him in the living room alone. He'd gotten a whole list of reasons ready: they weren't going to move Yamini, were they, and it would be odd for Jonathan to stay in the bed with Mina if the girl was there as well. And he really wasn't interested in sleeping on the sofa chair in the bedroom. So it made more sense for him to sleep in the living room and besides, it was probably best if someone kept an eye out-

But in the end, the only thing he needed to do was tell her, "I think I'll sleep in the living room."

"All right," Mina had said and slammed the bedroom door closed on his face.

So now here he was, laying on the sofa, covered in a fluffy blanket and holding up Yamini's phone. He hesitated, flipping the phone back and forth, then closed his eyes and pressed the number.

The call was answered right away.

"Johnny," Dracula sounded soft and calm, and Jonathan knew what that means, as well. It meant his blood wasn't going to be taken away from him, and he wasn't going to be hurt.

It meant Dracula wanted to hear him groan and gasp and try to hold back moans of pleasure. It meant that he was going to be carefully opened before being entered, and that Dracula would pump his cock in time to his thrusts, holding Jonathan at the very edge to make sure that they came at the exact same time. It meant Dracula was going to whisper into his ear the kinds of words you'd expect from a lover. About how beautiful he was, and how lucky Dracula was to have found him, and how everything was all right and how he was going to be kept quite safe and sound and protected from the big, dangerous world outside-

"Dracula," Jonathan closed his eyes and ran his fingers over the blanket, trying to center himself in its softness. "Doligen was just here."

"Was she?" Dracula sounded a bit amused. "I don't remember telling her she could go up there."

"Are you mad at her, then?" Jonathan asked quietly, flipping his eyes up to make sure the bedroom doors are closed.

"Unless she told you to off yourself, I don't see why I should be," Dracula hummed.

"She didn't," Jonathan replied, then swallowed. "Would she?"

"Darling, you've met her, haven’t you?" Dracula drawled. "Though, might I enquire as to what she _did_ say?"

"She said I should come out and we'd go to you. She said that if I did that, you wouldn't kill my friends," Jonathan shifted in his seat. "Was she right?"

There was a moment of hesitation and then Dracula solemnly told him, "Yes."

Jonathan's breath hitched, and he sat up, rubbing his eyes, "Really?"

"Have I ever lied to you, love?"

Shivering, Jonathan shook his head, "I don’t think so. No."

"No," Dracula repeated. "And I never will. Lying is rather crass, and makes things boring, don't you think? It's like cheating at a game of chess, makes things too easy. I've always found that there's no satisfaction to winning like that."

Jonathan didn't know how to respond to that, so he just kept quiet, waiting for Dracula to continue.

"Darling?"

"Yes?" Jonathan asked quietly. There was a part of him that thought that he should probably object to being called darling by Dracula, but he was too tired and…didn't really want to. If he did, the voice might chance. It might get harsh again, frightening and cold. And Jonathan would be so very alone again.

"Are you going to come to me, now?"

But he wasn't alone, not really. He wasn't in the castle anymore, he had Mina again now, and Agatha and Jack and Arthur. It wasn't like before. Dracula wasn't everything anymore.

"I…I can't do that."

There was a sigh on the other side and Dracula clicked his tongue, "That's your choice, my sweetheart. In the end I will get you back to me, but how that happens is your choice. If you come to me now, I will leave your friends alone, and we will be on our way. If you do not, I will kill every single person in that ridiculous hidey hole of yours. Your choice. What will you do?"

Unable to answer, Jonathan choked out a sob.

"Oh, Johnny, darling, no, don't cry. There is no reason to cry. It will all be all right. Why don't you come out, and I'll take care of you? You know I can, don't you? You know I will. You're so young, you're barely older than a child, you need someone to watch over you-"

"No," Jonathan shook his head. "Please just leave me alone. Please."

"I'm afraid I can't do that for you," Dracula whispered, and he sounded nearly sad. "I will do everything for you, bar that. Johnny. Do you remember when I took out to see the sun? When you jumped?"

"Yes," Of course he did. He thought about it all the time, about the feeling of falling, thinking he was about to die. Being at peace with that knowledge.

Being disappointed when he woke up and found himself still alive.

"When you fell, darling, that was rather frightening. You see, I thought you were going to die. You didn't, of course, which is wonderful. But while you were falling…do you know what I thought?"

"I-no, I don't."

"I thought that if the fall doesn’t kill you, I will never let you out of my sight," Dracula sneered, and Jonathan shivered and curled into himself. There it was, the cold and danger. It was his fault, he brought it there. "And now here you are, being so very difficult. Now, go open the curtain."

"Why? Are-are you there?"

"Yes, love. I want to see you."

It wasn't, though. None of this was his fault.

"I don't want to see you-"

"Well! How about this, then? If you don’t open the curtains, I'll go to the apartment nearby…there's a little baby there, and-"

Jonathan jumped up and threw the curtains open.

"Ah," Dracula said through the phone, smiling at Jonathan with love. "There he is. There's my Johnny."

"The sun's about to come up," Jonathan whispered as Dracula placed a hand on the glass. "You need to leave."

"Yes, I do," Dracula nodded. "And I will have rather pleasant dreams today, I'm sure, with your beautiful face in mind."

"Goodbye," Jonathan replied.

"For now, my Johnny," Dracula smiled and then jumped down.


	6. Of Bats and Decisions

Mina woke up at around ten the next morning, finding that Yamini had already gotten up and was in the kitchen, being interrogated by Agatha about what happened to her with Dracula. Mina found herself wanting to care for the child, who was clearly trying hard not to cry. But when she took a step forward, Agatha looked up and shook her head, making Mina step back out of the room, feeling like a child being sent out.

Instead, she made her way to the living room, looking to find Johnny. Jack was there, reading a medical journal and chewing his lip, but Arthur and Johnny were nowhere to be seen. Mina tried not to worry, at least not yet.

"Where is everyone?" Mina asked, coming to sit next to Jack.

He looked up at her from above the journal and said, "Arthur went to work, he promised to be back before nightfall. Actually, I've got to go to the clinic as well for a while…"

"And Johnny?"

"What, no in the bedroom with you?"

Mina's stomach dropped, "No. He slept in the living room because of Yamini."

"Really?" Jack put his journal down. "I've been sitting here since at least six in the morning. He wasn't here."

_Shit._

Mina closed her eyes, "Shit. Shit."

"Call him."

"Yeah," Mina took her phone out, and flicked it between her fingers.

"Mina?" Jack said quietly. "Call Johnny."

"Yeah."

She didn't, though.

Jack placed a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up to see her friend look at him with compassion. Mina took a deep breath and asked, "What if he doesn’t answer?"

"Then we call Agatha and ask her what to do. We might want to check-"

"No, I mean…" Mina closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. "What do _I_ do if he doesn't answer."

"If he doesn't answer, Mins, it doesn’t mean he doesn't love you."

_Got it in one, doc._

"I will feel that way," Mina mumbled.

"Wilhelmina Murray," Jack said sharply (she wasn't Harker yet, how she longed to be Mina Harker). "You are far too intelligent to say something as stupid as that."

Mina shook her head, "He's slipping away from me, Jack. It's frightening."

"He's not slipping away, he's sufferin-"

"And I'm there! I'm trying to help him!" Mina jumped up in fury. "But he won't talk to me, he won't listen. All he does is talk to bloody Van Helsing. Why not me? Why am I not good enough?"

"You are good enough. John loves you-"

"Well I need him too," Mina shrieked, fury overriding the very English need to be civil. "I just lost my best friend and some bloody monster is after my fiancé to take him away and leave me alone and I need him too! I need him, and he's not there for me!"

Mina breathed heavily, the silent reverberating through the house.

"He can't be there for you right now."

Mina gritted her teeth and whipped her head around to see Van Helsing leaning on the door, looking at her with dispassionate eyes.

"He is not capable of doing what you want of him right now," Van Helsing went on. "You have no idea what he has gone through, the amount of courage it took for him to survive-"

"Oh, and you do?" Mina sneered.

"Yes," Van Helsing said simply. "I do."

"Because he told you," Mina said quietly. "He told you and not me. This is all your fault. You need to stay away from Johnny, you're pushing him away from me."

"I will do what is necessary to take Dracula down. You should be helping me in that endeavor, not attempting to hinder my work."

"I'm not hindering anything! Johnny feels safest with me. He's told me things that he's never told anyone else in the world. I know the layout of his soul; he knows the layout of mine. We are connected, nothing can break us apart-"

"Then why are you afraid of me?"

"I am not afraid!" Mina screamed, furious by the insinuation. "I'm worried about him!"

"I grow weary of this conversation," Van Helsing said calmly. "When this is all over and Jonathan is free, I suggest you seek some professional help."

And then she left the room.

Mina stared at the spot where she had stood before, breathing hard and confused. This wasn't good, this wasn't good. She needed to calm down, she needed to find Johnny. She needed him, she was going mad.

So she called his phone. He doesn’t answer. She tried not to scream when the phone rang in the next room, and Johnny wasn't there.

*

Jonathan didn't go to sleep. He stayed in place, by the window where Dracula had left him, and watched the sun come up. When it was fully up, he felt a bit of the fear that had been corrupting his insides like some sort of transformative black goo shimmer away. Before anyone could get up and stop him, Jonathan raised himself up, got dressed and was out of the apartment in record time.

He took a bus back to his apartment, but during the ride he realized that he'd forgotten his phone at home…but that he had taken Yamini's with him.

 _Wonderful,_ Jonathan thought, a bit hysterical. _So Mina can't call me, but Dracula can. That makes sense. My old lover can't by my future one can. I should have expected that sort of thing happening._

He had to place his fist in his hand, biting down on it, to stop himself from bursting into hysterical laughter, and felt blood run down his palm. Jonathan took his fist out of his hand and opened it, watching the red little tears of blood.

"What a waste," Jonathan mumbled. _He'll be angry at me for it, won't he?_

He groaned, getting up when the bus comes to a stop. Why did he feel as if Dracula was behind him, watching his every move and waiting to see what he'll do? _He isn't, he isn't,_ Jonathan tried to convince himself. _He isn't behind him, the sun is up, I am safe._

_For now, you're only safe for now._

Jonathan opened the door to his apartment, locking it behind him and then checking three times that it was locked. He'd never done that before, Mina always called him out about leaving the door opened.

"What if we'll get robbed?" She often demanded.

"Wasn't that why we moved to this bloody posh neighborhood? So we didn't have to worry about that sort of thing?" Jonathan usually replies, and then Mina laughs.

The thought of Mina's laughter, that usually made Jonathan's insides warm up, now did nothing for him. He didn’t think there was anything that could thaw the pit of ice in his gut.

He went over to the kitchen and took out a jug of orange juice out of the fridge, then he froze. There was a picture pinned to the fridge, a picture that Jonathan had seen hundreds of times, but for the first time ever it made him stop in his tracks.

It was a picture of the five of them, taken a year ago on the trip to Paris they took the celebrate Jack passing some rather huge exam he had, in front of the Eiffel Tower. Mina is on Jonathan's back, hugging him and laughing. Jack is on Arthur's back, and Lucy is standing between the two couples, grinning.

One of the five was dead, now. Jonathan trailed his fingers over Lucy's smiling face. He missed her, so much. Her smile, the way she kissed his forehead and held him close. She would have been able to keep him safe. Not even Dracula would have wanted to deal with Lucy bloody Westenra.

One of the five is dead, and more will be coming. Unless he does something.

Jonathan is not an idiot, and he knew that they couldn't stay locked up in that apartment forever. Eventually someone woud slip up, and let Dracula or Doligen in. And when that happened, four out of five will be dead. Five out of five, if Jonathan manages to kill himself before Dracula comes to him.

He's responsible for Lucy's death. Him, no one else. If he hadn't jumped, she would have still been alive. Other people would have died, but not Lucy. And other people are shadows, they don't exist to him. Lucy existed, and she'd been deserving of life. He took that away from her.

Jonathan, tears running down his cheeks, slithered down to the floor. He picked up his phone and dials.

"Johnny, love," Dracula groaned, sounding rather upset. "I'm trying to sleep here."

Jonathan took a deep, shuttering breath, and could hear Dracula shifting in his coffin.

"Johnny Blue-eyes," There was a severity to Dracula's voice now, as though he was realizing that Jonathan had made a decision. "Sweetheart, what are you thinking about?"

"You promise, right?" Johnny whispered. "Not to hurt them?"

"I promise," Dracula whispered right back, intimate, private. Just the two of them left in the world. "Tell me where you are-"

"It's not like you can come get me, the sun is up."

Dracula snorted, and then gives Jonathan his address, "Come here, love. We can talk."

"I'll come…and you won't hurt my friends?"

"Yes, my darling."

Jonathan nodded, turning off his phone and leaving the apartment. Coming face to face with Agatha Van Helsing and Jack.

"Shit," Jonathan mumbled.

"Ah, yes," Agatha replied, dryly. "Shit. Jack- tranquilizer please?"

Jonathan decided not to fight.

*

"What do you mean," Mina grit out. " _You tranquilized my fiancé_?"

"Those are Agatha's words," Jack said calmly, leaning over Johnathan's prone body as it lay on the bed. Yamini was sitting on the bed next to him, reading a book on the iPad while squirming her feet under Jonathan's back. "What I did was give him a sedative."

"Why?"

"Because he was a few moments away from a hysterical fit," Jack replied, without looking up. He placed his fingers on Jonathan's wrist, checking his pulse. "And as his doctor-"

"You're not actually his doctor, Jack," Mina snapped in response, sitting down next to Jonathan and pushing his hair out of his face. He was breathing softly, looking so peaceful she wanted to cry. The last time she saw him like that was before he left for the count's. When he was still a hundred present hers.

"Mina, he's alright, I promise," Jack was entirely too calm for Mina's nerves. "We found him in your apartment, just like you said. And he looked…"

Jack shook his head a bit.

"Like he needed to be tranquilized," Agatha finished.

"Agatha, that's not helping," Jack sighed deeply. "Mina, he's going to wake up in half an hour or so. He'll be a bit groggy, but other then that he should be just fine."

"Should-"

"He'll be just fine," Agatha interrupted, looking down at Jonathan with a frown. "But when he wakes up, I'll need to speak to him."

*

"Welcome back, Jonathan."

Jonathan blinked, looking around. He was back in his and Mina's bedroom in their hiding place (if it could even be called that anymore). Yamini was laying next to him, playing a game on her iPad with her legs resting on his stomach. When their eyes meet, she smiled at him gently, then leaned down to kiss his forehead before going back to her game. He kept looking around, eyes coming to a stop on Agatha Van Helsing where she was sitting by the window. The sun was high up in the sky, so it was afternoon now.

"Agatha, did you really have Jack give me a sedative?" Jonathan groaned and sat up, ruffling Yamini's hair. She'd been crying again, he can tell. Not that he could blame her. He knew what it was like, the loss of a beloved yet distant and confusing father. 

"Yes, but never mind that now. We need to talk. Have you spoken to Dracula?"

Jonathan didn't bother asking how she came to that conclusion. Agatha was right, she seemed to very rarely not be.

"Yes," He mumbled, turning away from her. Now,how was he going to get out of the apartment-

"You're not going anywhere, Jonathan. So settle down, if you would, and tell me about your conversation with the monster."

Jonathan shook his head, "I can't."

"You think you can keep us all safe by giving yourself over to Dracula. Will, if you do so, I can promise you one thing: that I will never stop hunting you, I will never stop coming to destroy you."

"No, he'd kill you-"

"Ah, yes. So, you are condemning me to death if you give yourself over to him," Agatha nodded, as if that settles it.

Jonathan took a deep breath.

"You had a moment of weakness, Jonathan Harker. We all have those. Now I need you to get over it. Tell me where Dracula is. The sun is out, will be for hours. We can do this. We can go to him, destroy him."

"I don't think I can-"

"I believe it is possible."

"No, you don’t understand," Jonathan swallowed, mentally preparing himself for her distain and scorn. "I don't think _I_ can. I think it's too late for me, Agatha."

For a moment they looked at each other, the young man and the older woman. And Jonathan found himself thinking, _Dracula is much older, so how come Agatha seems so much wiser?_

"It is not, I refuse to accept that," Agatha said, voice much gentler then what Jonathan would have expected. "Once he is dead, we will free you from his shadow. But I think you're right. That right now you are taken by him, convinced that you have no purpose but to serve him. I am not asking you to come with us. I am simply asking you to tell me where he is. Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I can."

*

"Make sure he does not leave the apartment," Agatha whispered to Mina, making the younger woman swallow in slight fear. The implication here was that there was a danger of Jonathan joining Dracula, warning him perhaps. It was not something she was easily willing to accept, but not the sort of thing she was about to test, either. "In fact, it might be best to keep him from his phone as well. And the windows. One never knows."

"The sun is up," Mina protested. "You'll be back before it comes down. Won't you?"

"That is my hope," Agatha nodded. "But one never knows. It is good to be prepared for all outcomes, yes?"

"Yes," Mina really had nothing else to say. "I suppose that's true."


	7. Of Bats and Huntresses

Agatha pulled her hair up out of her eyes and placed her cross over her chest before taking out her crossbow.

"Why."

Jack didn't even bother to put a question mark on that word. His eyes were wide as he stared at the crossbow with the wooden stakes slung over Agatha's back.

"Wooden stakes and decapitation are the only two ways of killing a vampire,' Agatha explained, while handing Jack an axe. Unfortunately, she was rather lacking in her normal array of weapons. She'd been given the call about Jonathan while out doing her grocery shopping, and rushed all the way to the airport to get the next flight out of Budaphist. While in England she had not had the time to stock up. So she was working with the weapons she had had on her at the time: a crossbow and an axe. Not ideal, but she'll make do. "Any other way and they can return to life."

"Um…if you say so," Jack accepted the axe, despite the clear distain in his eyes, and looked up at the small suburban house that Jonathan had sent them to. Agatha hadn't been surprised to see how calm and idyllic the place looked. Dracula knew the value of blending into the scenery.

"You can stay outside if you want to," Agatha said sharply. She couldn't carry a partner through this fight. If he wasn't going to hold his weight it was better if he didn't come in.

The doctor looked up, and Agatha watched his eyes harden.

"No," Jack tightened his hold on the axe. "He killed Lucy; I can't let him get away."

Agatha smirked, "Quite right."

They went into the house. As soon as they were in, Agatha tore all the curtains off every window she could find. Vampires were capable of waking during the day, just as humans were capable of waking during the night. But if the windows were open and light pooled in, they would have no way of moving about. They would be trapped.

Now, to find the creatures in their slumber. 

Agatha and the young doctor walked through all the rooms in the first floor, but there was no one there.

"This looks like a family home," Jack said, placing his hand on the high chair next to the table. "Where do you think-are they alive?"

"It's best not to think about it," Agatha replied, leaving the room. Judging by the toys on the floor, there were at least two children living in the house, one a baby. Or, there _had_ been at least two children. They were dead and drained by now. "Come along, doctor."

Clutching her crossbow, Agatha slowly made her way up the stairs. She took a few steps before freezing and turning to Jack, placing a silencing finger on her mouth.

She could hear something above them, a scratching on wood. Slowly, weapon at the ready, Agatha continued up the stairs. The sound grew louder and louder as she went on, until she was close enough to hear something else, a whispering barely heard over fingernails scratching on the wooden door.

It was only when Agatha was right in front of the door (a door with a sign on it announcing it as 'Mattie's bedroom') that she could piece out the whispered words.

"Help me. Kill me. Help me. Kill me."

Agatha grabbed her crossbow and used it to smash the door open. Then, before she could think of what she was doing, she shot.

The screech of the dying creature would have broken Agatha's heart years ago, but she'd grown colder over the years, and knew there was nothing to be gained by sympathy.

Sympathy for the devil will do nothing to protect Jonathan.

When the screeching died down, Agatha looked to see the dead creature. The boy was no older than six.

"My God," Jack moaned behind him. "You killed a child."

"I killed a ghoul," Agatha replied. "A slave to the vampire that fed from and killed him. They say these creatures can feel the fires of Hell lick their insides. The boy was gone before we came to this house."

She looked behind her shoulder just in time to see Jack throwing up in the corner.

"The offer still stands," She remarked. "You are free to leave."

Jack wiped his mouth and glared at her, "The only way to stop this is to kill that bloody _demon_. I will help you."

"Very well," Agatha turned away to hide a smirk. She checked the other three bedrooms (the family had four children, two boys and two girls, it seemed), but there was nothing there.

Which left only the bathroom, a room that also happened to be the only one other than the ghoul-boy's to be closed. But there was no sound coming from there, so Agatha was quite confident that she wouldn't be encountering any more ghouls.

Which of course begged the question of what Dracula and his brides had done with the rest of the family.

She took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door- and there it was, as she'd dreaded and expected.

The bodies were in the bath, still dressed for the night. Those of the two parents were on the bottom, the smaller child bodies on top of them. The bathtub and walls around it were splattered in so much blood it was near impossible to tell what the color of the tiles were. But the bodies of the children were clean. They had been killed somewhere else and then brought to the bathroom to lay with their parents.

The children had been killed neatly, efficiently, not one drop of blood wasted. The parents…their throats were ripped open to the bone and their blood decorated the room. That was not Dracula's work, nor Doligen's.

Dracula had brought all three of his brides to England. He truly was planning on settling down here.

Agatha followed the trail of bodies to the sink, where the heads lay. Decapitate the body to prevent the creation of the ghoul. So it seemed that Dracula had not wanted any more moaning servants. The boy had probably been kept for the sheer amusement of it, or to frighten those who came looking.

The parents' head were sitting inside the sink, eyes open and dead. Two children's heads sat above them on the edge of the sink, and exactly in the middle, between the two skins, lay the baby's head.

Agatha could not hate Dracula more, it was impossible. Nothing could be stronger than the hate she already had for him. And she'd seen things of this nature before. She closed the door behind her. There was nothing more for her to see there.

"Jack," She said, prepared to pick the boy up from the floor. But Jack was standing, and looking up.

"Look," He said, and there was now a detachment to his voice, a part of him having been stripped away by what he had just saw, what he had experienced. Agatha allowed herself less than a moment to mourn that loss for him. He did not realize it was gone, would not for years to come. But she did, she knew. "An attic."

Agatha watched as Jack brought a white ladder down from the ceiling, exposing a dark entrance up there.

"We cannot go there," Agatha said immediately. "There are no windows, if we were to wake the vampires up-"

By the time she realized that Jack wasn't listening to her, the boy was halfway up the ladder.

"Fuck, Jack! Come down here right now!"

But Jack ignored her completely.

"Jack! You fool!" Agatha hissed and began rushing up the ladder after the boy. She just managed to grab his ankle as his upper body disappeared into the darkness, but he kicked her off and simply kept on going.

Cursing silently, Agatha kept on climbing, keeping as quiet as she possibly could. If the vampires were there, they must keep quiet. If they were to wake them-

Though, of course, they could have been down in the basement as well, where they had yet to check. She hoped that was the case.

As soon as Agatha walked into the attic, the ladder slammed up, and they were lost in a world of darkness. It seemed the vampires were not, in fact, in the basement.

"Doctor," Agatha took her phone out and turned the flashlight on. There was the shadow of a woman on the wall, a shadow that disappeared as soon as Agatha took a step forward. "Stay by my side."

She pushed Jack behind her and trained her crossbow, body tense and ready.

"Let's start with the boy," The words were spit into the air, hungry and mad. "He's so _young_."

"But Van Helsing…" And there was the other twin. She was standing behind Agatha, and she turned, hitting Jack out of the way and releasing her stake.

It hit the wall with a thud, only air inhabiting the spot where the vampire stood before. As she turned, there was a _whoosh_ of air behind her, and she twisted again, finding nothing there.

"Van Helsing, that's the third time you tried to kill my sister. I am going to kill you; I am going to feed you your fingers-"

"That sounds like a bit of a waste, Brandusca," Agatha called out, moving the flashlight back and forth. But the creatures were too fast, and she got nothing but glimpses of their flowing gowns and long hair. "Wouldn't you rather drink my blood instead?"

"Shut it, human," Brandusca hissed.

"Though I doubt you have the self-control necessary to inflict that sort of death on me," Agatha said, narrowing her eyes. She can feel one of the vampires, right behind her, and needs to be prepared to strike. "I am quite sure that you would give up before I had eaten the first finger and open my throat instead."

She turned around and shot-

A clawed hand grabbed the crossbow, shoving it upwards, and the arrow sunk into the ceiling with a _thud_ , the only sound now in the room. Agatha's phone illuminated the face in front of her as the crossbow was wretched from her grasp and thrown to the side. She placed her hand on her chest, but the cross wasn't there anymore.

She closed her eyes for half a moment, remembering the moment when she'd felt one of the vampire twins standing behind her. She looked down to see that yes, there the cross was. There was nothing protecting Agatha anymore.

She'd been so stupid.

"I've been telling them that for _ages_ ," Dracula sighed, sounding like an exasperated parent. He raised an eyebrow as all three of the female vampires came into view, hovering over Agatha and Jack.

Dracula threw the crossbow to the side and grabbed Agatha's chin, pulling her towards him.

"Hello again, Agatha Van Helsing," Dracula purred. "It's rather nice to see you."

Before Agatha could respond, Jack cried out from behind her, and, unable to stop him, Agatha could do nothing but watch in horror as Jack rushed forward, holding his axe up. He didn't reach Dracula, of course.

Doligen swooped in, grabbing Jack and pulling him away, locking him in place with her arms.

"Ah, another visitor," Dracula shoved Agatha forward, observing Jack. "Hello, doctor. I remember you from the hospital, you're one of my Johnny's friends."

"That boy does not belong to you," Agatha hissed. "Now let Jack go."

Dracula just smirked and said, "Jonathan very much belongs to me. Just like Zoe had."

Agatha's blood went cold, "Don't speak of my daughter."

"Did you tell Johnny about our previous encounters?" Dracula asked. "He would have found it quite interesting, I'm sure, to hear that your own daughter had gladly taken the gift I'm offering him."

"It was not a gift," Agatha sneered. "You tricked Zoe-"

"Your Zoe was glad to be turned," Dracula replied. "She'd asked me to. And then there you came. You killed her."

"No, you had killed her," Agatha gasped. "All I did was destroy the body."

"Hmm, I'm sure Johnny would see it that way."

Agatha glared at him.

"Oh, I see. You didn't tell him, did you?" Dracula laughed, eyes creaking with what looked to be genuine amusement. "Of course not. Why would he trust you when he heard you'd killed your own daughter for becoming what he's about to?"

But Jonathan would not be turned, Agatha would make sure of it.

"I will not allow you to take Jonathan," Agatha said quietly, though she knew she could not stop him. She'd lost, Dracula had her in his grasp. Ten years of fighting, of hunting Dracula, and this was how it ended.

"Agatha, my friend," Dracula tightened his hold on Agatha's neck. "This has been rather fun. But you kept my bride away from me fir a bit longer then was necessary. And that was rather annoying of you."

 _I'm coming, Zoe_ , Agatha thought as she closed her eyes. _I'll see you soon_.


	8. Of Bats and Final Confrontations

"Before you ask," Jonathan said when the door to the bedroom creaked open. He didn't bother looking away from the window, where the sun was starting to come down. Yamini was asleep on the bed (she'd cried herself to sleep again), and Mina was the only other person in the apartment. "No, I am not interested in talking about it."

"Right," Mina said sharply, slamming the door closed behind her. Jonathan winced, but still didn't look at her. He was still weak from the tranquilizer (sedative, whichever it was), and he wasn't strong enough yet to make his way to the address Dracula had given him. Right now all he could do was wait.

He wasn't sure what he was hoping for. That Agatha and Jack would fail or kill Dracula. His mind screams, _kill Dracula_ , while the rest of him was finding the idea nauseating.

He was truly broken, now.

"Unfortunately, we need to talk, the two of us," Mina continued. "Whether or not you want to talk really has nothing to do with it."

Jonathan heard Mina stomp over to him, and looked up when she came into view. Mina stared at him and then slapped him. Hard.

"Ow," Jonathan mumbled, raising his hand to rub his cheek.

"You were going to give yourself over to him?!" Mina shrieked. "And leave me? For him!"

"I wasn't fucking leaving you for him," Jonathan replied, annoyed by the accusation. "I was trying to save you!"

"You keep telling me that, Jonathan. You keep telling yourself that. I don't believe you for one second, you bloody dick," She raised her hand to slap him again, but Jonathan managed to catch it in time.

"Get away from me," Jonathan said quietly, grabbing Mina's wrist and pulling it away from where it hung next to his face.

"Johnny-"

"I told you, didn't I, not to call me that?"

"Why? Does only he get to call you that?"

"Yes," Jonathan said quietly, and stood up. There was a cold, cold feeling sinking into him. He needed Dracula; the creature would make him warm. He made him too warm, made him boil up from the inside of out. Jonathan needed that right now. "I'm going to make sure that you're not going to die, my Mina."

"You're not giving yourself away," Mina shook her head. "I won't let you-"

"You can't stop me. You have no control over me."

 _Anymore_. The word echoed through his mind far to quickly for him to make everything out of it.

As if she could hear him, Mina flinched backwards. Then she shook her head and said, "I don't understand you."

"I know, Mina," Jonathan tried to reach out and touch her, comfort her perhaps, but she stepped backwards again, away from him, and he did not have the strength to follow her. There wasn't much point to it, anyways.

"You know," Mina took a deep breath. "You know I can't understand you, and that something is wrong. But you're not going to try and fix it, are you?"

Jonathan shrugged, "There's rarely a point, anymore."

"There is. You're not leaving, you're not going to him. I won't let you," But she was still stepping away from him. She wouldn't be able to stop him like that.

"All right," Jonathan mumbled, knowing neither of them had any power to stop whatever it was that was going to happen.

*

 _Are you all right?_ Mina wrote, regretting the question as soon as she handed the iPad to Yamini. What a ridiculous question. How could the girl be _all right_ , she had lost her father less then forty hours earlier. And the sun was starting to come down again.

They hadn't heard from Van Helsing and Jack yet. Mina wanted so desperately to leave the apartment and go see what was happening, but she couldn't leave Jonathan. She could tell that if she did, even for a moment, he'd bugger off to Dracula's waiting arms.

Mina looked away from Yamini on the bed towards Johnny, who was still sitting by the window, watching the sun make its way through the sky. There was a fight going on, a war inside of him. Mina could only hope that his need to stay with her would win out. She turned back to Yamini.

 _Scared_ , the girl had written. _Van Helsing said to stay inside, no matter what._

_I know._

_Jonathan won't leave._

_Won't he?_ Mina bit her lip.

Yamini rubbed Mina's arm and then wrote, _Not while you stay with him. He won't walk past you_.

Mina took a deep breath and then wrote, _How about you, what can I do for you?_

The girl shrugged and held on to Mina, typing, _I don't know._

_That's all right, you don't need to. I'll just sit by you for now, shall I?_

That got a small nod out of the girl.

*

Arthur shivered, pushing his hat over his ears. It was freezing, when had it gotten so bloody cold? He looked up to the window of the apartment he'd rented. He really should have gone home-

Bloody, bloody hell, of course he shouldn't have. Jack was still there, and until Jack agreed, Arthur refused to leave. He had spent the whole say at the office bothering the detective inspector that had been put in charge of Lucy's missing person's case, and getting absolutely nowhere with his own interrogation of the disappearance.

He'd gotten a call from Jack, asking for confirmation that he would be back before the sun came down.

"Please," Jack had pleaded.

"Yeah, all right, Jackie, all right," Arthur had replied. And he _had_ planned on doing so, really. It was just that he'd had an idea about where Lucy could be, and finding her was more important than placating Jack.

He'd only left the station at seven. The lead had got him nowhere.

Needless to say, he wasn't exactly in the best mode. So when he bumped into a woman with long blond hair at the entrance to the apartment building, he snapped out, "Careful, will you!"

"Oh," A soft voice purred in his ear. "Isn't this lovely?"

Arthur gasped in shock as a hand came around his neck like a vice, so hard it was almost hard to him to breath.

"Jonathan is going to be _so_ very upset when he sees this, now isn't he?"

Arthur punched at the arm holding him in place and kicked at the blond woman. It had no effect. The woman slammed Arthur against the wall, and moved towards him, exposing her face to the light of the moon.

A woman? Was that what Arthur had thought? That didn't make much sense. This wasn't a woman. It couldn't be, could it? This was an animal, a predator on two legs.

It was a predatory animal that was going to eat Arthur alive.

"Detective Holmwood," The animal clenched her hand harder, chocking off Arthur's breathing airways. "I've heard about you. The non-believer. I wonder what you think now?"

This was how she was going to kill him? That was not how Arthur wanted to die. He wanted to die old, in bed, with Jack and Lucy looking down at him. He wanted to die knowing that the two of them were safe and together.

"Will you let me in the apartment?" The woman asked, releasing Arthur so suddenly he collapsed to the ground, his legs unable to hold himself up. The creature stayed above him, looking down, and Arthur wanted to scream. Well. so this was how ants felt when humans looked at them.

Let her in…Arthur's eyes widened. They'd all told him not to let strangers into the apartment. He shook his head, unable to speak.

"No?" The animal-woman smirked and leaned down, "Well. Let's try this."

She grabbed Arthur's hand and pulled it over towards her. She looked at Arthur for a moment and then smiled and broke his arm.

Arthur had had his arm broken before. So he screamed out, but other than that kept his mouth closed. The woman smiled (that wasn't a smile, not really) and then she broke his second hand.

He managed to hold out for another ten bones before he caved in.

*

The human under her moaned, letting out the last gasps of life. She watched him die, it was always fun. Humans were only truly interesting when they died.

Which was why she wasn't particularly pleased with what they were doing now. All of this effort, just to get her Master that little boy. Brandusca and Roxandra were mad that they weren't enough for Master (they had had the same reaction every time he'd gotten a new bride-which was why all of those brides were dead. There was no way he was going to let the twins anywhere near his precious Jonathan), but all Doligen cared about was that the wasted time. Humans were tasty, she wanted to eat the boy.

She wasn't allowed to.

"Did you get permission?"

Doligen nodded, not looking away from the dying human. She felt a hand on her hair, running through it and scraping her skull, "Count Dracula, I invite you in. Enter of your own free will."

"Thank you."

The human was dead now, so Doligen turned to look at her Master. He still had blood on his teeth from Van Helsing. He had given the boydoctor to Doligen and the twins, compensation for having to stay in the house for yet another night (it was always another night, until they could find a place large enough to keep them in, where they could stay for centureis). But Van Helsing he had kept all for himself. She had not died quickly, they had time, hours before the sun had set and they could finally leave the house.

Doligen had enjoyed the screams. Van Helsing had been a mild annoyance for so long, it was nice to finally be rid of her. They'd left the twins to play with her drained body parts. They were throwing the head back and forth like a ball when Doligen and Dracula left. Dracula had turned to her and rolled his eyes, as though to say, _and you wonder why I want some new company_.

"Do you want me to put his skin on?" Doligen asked, motioning to the dead human on the ground,

"There's hardly a point anymore, is there? We've been invited in," Master straightened his black coat and grinned. "It's time to collect my bride."

*

There. The sun was down. Jonathan's hands shivered as he tried to call Agatha again, while Mina was trying Arthur. But there was no answer, and he hadn't really been expecting one. It was over, they had lost.

It was over, he had lost.

"Mina," Jonathan turned to Mina. "We need to leave right now."

"What? Why?"

"Because Agatha and Jack lost, and we can't be certain that they didn't invite Dracula in."

"They wouldn't-"

"They might if they had hot pokers attached to their skin," Jonathan said sharply and tapped Yamini on the shoulder, motioning her to get up. He didn't actually know if that was the sort of thing Dracula would do. He'd never been tortured by the creature. All the pain Jonathan had felt from him had come from being cut for his blood and the pain of penetration, when he didn't hold still.

But it seemed like something he would do.

Yamini seemed to immediately realize what was happening and jumped on Jonathan's back, holding on to him.

"Let's go," Jonathan said to Mina.

Mina didn't seem particularly convinced, but she followed Jonathan out of the room anyways, which Jonathan was more then grateful for. He did not think he had the energy to fight her.

Joanthan took a deep breath before opening the door. The hallway was silent, deadly so. Tightening his hold on Yamini as she curled around his back, Jonathan took a few steps forward. Nothing happened.

He took a few more. He walked down the first flight of stairs, carefully and slowly. He needed to get them to the car, and then they could maybe make their way to Mina's hometown-

"Hello love," Dracula purred into his face, blocking the exit to the building.

"Go!" Jonathan yelled, adrenaline pulsing through his veins. He started running back down the building hallway, body acting before he could think. Instead of going up (he didn’t have enough time) he reached the first apartment he came across and tried to open the door. It was a risk-

But the door was open. Not stopping to thank his lucky stars, Jonathan threw himself in, landing on the floor with a thud.

"Oh, Johnny."

Jonathan sat up, breathing heavily and hugging Yamini close to his chest. He looked around, they were in the kitchen of the apartment, and he could see a few knives on the counter top.

And then he turned to look at the open door, where Dracula and Doligen stood.

And Mina…Mina was grasped in Doligen's hold.

Jonathan's breath hitched, and he grabbed Yamini and pointed into the depth of the apartment. She needed to go and hide; he didn't want her to see what was about to happen.

Whatever that was.

Yamini obeyed right away.

"After I went through all that effort to get an invite into that apartment," Dracula shook his head while Mina struggled, panic filling her eyes. "You put yourself somewhere else."

 _Mina is going to die_ , Jonathan thought dully _. She is lost. No matter what I do, she'll die. He's going to torture her until I let him in. And I will, because I'm too weak not to_. _And when he gets in he'll kill her anyways, and Yamini too._

No, he couldn't let that happen. Arthur, Lucy, Jack, Agatha and Mina. They were all dead because of him, and Yamini wasn't going to be dead as well.

"Dracula," Jonathan said calmly.

"Yes, Johnny? Is there something I can do for you?"

Jonathan took a deep breath, "Kill her quickly."

Dracula's eyes narrowed, "Johnny, you have a look in your eyes that I don't quite like. What are you planning? Why don't you just come out, and we can let Mina go on her way with the girl?"

Not bothering to respond, Jonathan made his way to the counter and took out a long, sharp knife.

"Johnny-"

"I'm sorry, Mina, but I couldn't save you. I want you to know that I do love you," Jonathan said, and slashed his wrist.

*

"No!" Mina screamed, renewing her struggles to escape the vampire, as she watched her Johnny, the love of her life, the best thing in her life, drawing a silver knife over his skin, making a river of blood explode. "Johnny, no!"

"Johnny," Dracula slammed his hands in the air, trying to get into the apartment. "What are you doing! Let me in! Right now!"

Johnny fell down to his knees, his face paling and eyes fluttering closed. Mina chocked back a sob, her eyes watering as Jonathan tilted forward.

"Wilhelmina-" Dracula suddenly grabbed Mina's chin and pulled her over to him. "He's going to die."

Mina whimpered, and then she was thrown into the apartment. Gasping, Mina rushed over to Jonathan and cradled him to her chest. She took off her jacket and pressed it to Jonathan's bleeding wrist, trying to stem the bleeding. It wasn't doing much.

"Please don’t die, Johnny. Please don't die-"

"He will," Dracula wasn't looking at her. His eyes, his whole being was trained on Jonathan. There was nothing else in the world but him. "He will die, and you won't be able to fix it."

Mina shook her head.

"I can."

She froze and looked up.

"I can save him, Mina. And all you have to do, is let me in."

Mina groaned, hugging Johnny to her and tightening her hold on his wrist. The blood flow was slowing down, she swore it was-

"He's going to die," There was a note of panic in Dracula's voice now, but Mina didn't turn to look at him. She had eyes for Johnny alone.

He was so beautiful, pale with his blue eyes staring up at her. Her angel, that had come to her when she needed him most and saved her. the light was dimming from his eyes, disappearing.

 _You're my heart,_ Johnny's voice laughed in her mind, picking her up and twirling her in the air. _You're my soul, and I am yours._

"Mina, he will die."

"You're going to take him away," Mina said, cradling Jonathan closer to her chest. "Change him and keep him like a pet. I won't let you."

"He's not my pet, he's my bride, and if you do not let go of him, let me take him, he will die."

Mina closed her eyes for a moment. She knew what she needed to do. It was terrifying, but it was the only way they would be together forever. She leaned down, and kissed Jonathan's warm lips. She could feel his breath on her, getting more and more shallow as she picked up the knife.

"We'll be together, forever, Johnny," She whispered into his lips. "No one is going to come between us."

And then she shoved the knife into her stomach and pulled it out again.

The pain was earthshattering, it was indescribable. She fell on top of Johnny, feeling her blood seep into him and join his own puddle of blood on the floor. She kept her eyes open as long as she could, wanting to see Johnny and not miss a single second. She hoped that they would die at the same moment.

The last thing she saw was Jonathan raising his hand and waving Dracula in. 


	9. Of Bats and New Lives

The first thing that Jonathan saw when he opened his eyes was Dracula. Sitting at a piano, playing. The melody was dark and beautiful and confusing, going back and forth from calm and sedate to loud and fast and energizing. He's dressed in a black suit with a pearl white shirt with the collar popped out and a pair of brown leather shoes. His eyes were nearly closed as his fingers went back and forth on the piano with inhuman speed.

Jonathan turned away from Dracula for a moment, not ready to deal with his presence quite yet. They are in what looked like a huge lounge, with a domed ceiling painted to look like the Sistine Chapel, golden walls (gold? Wasn't that a bit excessive?) and heavy wooden furniture. Jonathan wondered if this was what Castle Dracula had looked like before it felt into disarray.

Maybe that was where he was, right now. In Castle Dracula. Was he perhaps in Dracula's mind, in his memories? He was dead, he must be dead, he slit his wrist. It would be very much in character for Dracula to trap Jonathan in the monster's mind for all eternity. But at least Mina would be safe now, even if Jonathan's nightmare was not over.

Still, he wanted to make sure.

"Where am I?" Jonathan asked, not bothering to try and speak over the piano. Dracula would be able to hear him.

Dracula didn't stop playing, didn't even look at Jonathan, "Carfax Abbey. I bought it before I came to London."

Jonathan blinked. No, that was wrong.

"I'm dead," He said. Begged, really.

Dracula stopped playing, and the sudden silence pounded through Jonathan. He swallowed as Dracula placed his fingers on the key, trialing the white and black without playing them.

"You're not dead, Johnny. Well, not entirely," Dracula said.

"I killed myself-"

"Yes!"

Jonathan gasped in fear as Dracula suddenly appeared in front of him, looming over his face. His eyes were red-and-black, mouth open to show his fangs. He had never seen Dracula's eyes full of so much fury.

"Yes, you foolish little boy," Dracula grabbed Jonathan's throat and pulled him to the ground, looming over him. Jonathan tried to push Dracula away, ineffectively.

Dracula growled in anger and took hold of both of Jonathan's wrists and pulled them above his head, trapping him.

"What were you thinking?" Dracula sneered. "That I would leave Mina alone if you killed yourself? I thought we had established, my little bride, that if you die I will kill Mina-"

"You would have killed her no matter what I did," Jonathan replied. "You said you wouldn't kill my friends if I came to you, and I hadn't. So you were going to kill all of them. I was just trying to keep Yamini safe."

"Well, I suppose you'll be happy to hear that we left the girl knocked out but safe in the apartment," Dracula tilted Jonathan's head up, exposing his neck, and nosed the space between his ear and throat. "I hope that makes you a bit less upset with me?"

Jonathan stilled, "And Mina." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. _And Mina_. She matters too.

"Ah, Mina," Dracula hummed. "Lovely little Mina."

Their eyes met and Jonathan swallowed, waiting. Dracula stood up and gathered Jonathan into his arms, and Jonathan collapsed in his hold, not bothering to try and hold himself up anymore. Dracula was strong enough to keep him in one piece. At least until he decided breaking him apart would be more amusing.

"You let me in," Dracula said gently, running a hand through Jonathan's hair.

"I know," Jonathan caressed the soft sofa. He remembered how, when he was a child, his parents had gone to a hotel for a night and how his father had stolen one of the pillows, so Jonathan could smell the hotel. He'd never been in one before.

 _Don't tell Mum_ , his father had told him, handing him the pillow. _Don't think she wants you to grow and be a thief._

It had taken years for Jonathan to realize that what his _father_ had wanted was for him to feel something soft. Mum just wanted him to be good, Dad wanted him to know what he would be fighting for, his whole life.

Being good wasn't always enough, Dad knew that. Sometimes he'd take things away from Jonathan, giving them back only when Jonathan proved he was worthy of them. Hugs or kisses, conversation or comfort. He'd need to come home with a good grade before he got all those things back again.

"Jonathan?"

Jonathan startled, and said, "My dad called me Johnny."

"I know."

Jonathan decided not to try and wonder how Dracula knew that, "No one else is allow to call me that."

"Mina-"

"She called me Johnny Blue-eyes, not just Johnny. It's not the same."

"Isn't it?" Dracula reclined on the sofa cushions, looking like some kind of Roman emperor. it was disconcerting, how refined and handsome he was.

"I…" Jonathan looked at his hands.

"You didn't like it, did you, when Mina called you Johnny Blue-eyes."

Before Jonathan had time to think about what he was doing, he shook his head.

"You never told her."

"It didn't seem important."

"Well, dear, that doesn’t sound like very healthy communication."

 _Anger_ pooling in him, Jonathan turned to sneer at Dracula, "Yes, because you're just the patron _saint_ of emotional stability."

Dracula grinned, looking like he'd bought a toy at a store only to open it at home and discover the shop keeper had accidently put a much better and more expensive toy in its place.

 _Mum would have made him right it back_. _But Dad would have told him to enjoy it_ , and Jonathan missed Dad the most.

"Oh, Jonathan, and to think I almost lost you," Dracula moved forward and grasped Jonathan's wrist, turning it to look at his unblemished skin. "Another moment or two and we'd have lost you for good."

Jonathan watched the clawed fingers caressing his skin. Everything felt so much _stronger_. Was that because he was a monster now? Was it the universe's way of compensating monsters for being monsters?

"What happened to Mina?" He asked, not looking up form where his and Dracula's skin connected.

"I can take you to where we scattered the ashes, later," Dracula let go of Jonathan's arm and collapsed back on the sofa.

Jonathan felt relief go through him like a tidal wave. He'd been so afraid Dracula would decide to take Mina as well, or perhaps turn her into a ghoul of some sort. But fi she was dead, she was safe from the monster, and safe from the one Jonathan had become, as well.

"Did she suffer?" He asked. That was the last thing he needed to know.

"She…stabbed herself in the gut, my Jonathan. That tends to hurt."

"But did you-" Jonathan shook his head, forcing the words out. "Did you hurt her more?"

Dracula sighed, "I wouldn't have had the time even if I'd have the inclination. She bled out just when you were about to-"

"You called me Jonathan."

It had just hit him.

Dracula raised his eyebrow, "Did I?"

"Don't," Jonathan said sharply. "Don't bloody _play_ with me."

The demon's face seemed to soften slightly, "All right then, no games."

Jonathan nodded and looked down at the ornate floor, "What happens now?"

"Well, now, my sweet little boy, you are a vampire. And soon you'll be hungry and will need to eat," Dracula stood up elegantly and walked over to stand behind Jonathan, running a hand through his hair.

His claws scraped over Jonathan's sculp, opening it. But Jonathan barely had the time to register the pain before it disappeared again.

Hesitantly, Jonathan raised a hand to his head, but couldn't feel any open wounds. The realization hit him like a punch in the face.

"You can't hurt me anymore," He said.

Dracula shrugged.

"You won't be able to control me with force."

"Hmm," Dracula's hand was back, but this time his touch was soft, a caress. Fond and warm and comforting. A terrible lie, Jonathan had to remind himself. It couldn’t be trusted. "Didn't I tell you I don't enjoy winning by cheating? Cowing you into submission would not be the same as winning you over."

Jonathan closed his eyes, allowing himself, just for a moment, to collapse into Dracula's touch.

"And what if I want to leave? What if don't want to be with you?"

"Well," Dracula leaned down, his face near Jonathan's. "If you do that, I'll just have to come after you. I always enjoy a good chase."

Jonathan took a deep breath (he didn't think he needed to anymore, that had been taken from him as well) then got up and ran.

He could hear Dracula's laughter before the swoop of air that told him that he was being chased.


	10. Of Bats and Goodbyes

It was beautiful, the sun. Not as beautiful as the sun back home- it was not strong enough to compete with the one Yamini had woken up to her entire life. But still. It was a sun. And sun meant safety. Sun-safety. Moon-danger.

It had been that way for nearly a month now, ever since Jonathan had sent her to hide while he confronted the monster hunting him.

She had done as she was bid, and when the door to the room had opened, she'd peeked out, hoping it was Jonathan-

But it had been Dracula. The dark nightmare come to life. And he had grinned down at her and signed, _Hello again, clever little girl._

 _I'm dead_ , Yamini had thought, terrified and dazed. _I'm dead and still awake._

 _I hope you enjoyed your time with my darling Johnny,_ Dracula had signed. _But he's coming with me now._

 _Just do it quickly_ , Yamini had sighed back. She had wanted to die bravely, before she pissed her pants in terror. Her dad would have told her to forget stupid pride, to beg for her life. But there was nothing Yamini could say, nothing she could possibly do, to change Dracula's mind. He would do what he wanted to do, and if he wanted Yamini dead, she would die. There was no thing she could do, except for one thing. Which was decide how she would die.

And she intended to do just that. Stand with her head high and die with her dignity intact. The way her mother had died. Proud and brave.

But then Dracula had laughed, loud and delighted and amused-she could tell by the movement of his lips.

 _Amazing. You have around twenty times the courage Miss Mina had_ , he'd signed while grinning. _Stay alive, would you, little one? I'm sure we'll come across one another when you're all grown up._

And then he'd left. Left her to shiver in the room alone before crawling out to find Mina's body waiting for her outside. Mina, with her wide open and dark eyes, the light sucked out of them like water sucked out of a bath when the plug was pulled.

The English police had found her, later. She wasn't quite sure how much later. Enough that she no longer had any tears to cry and her body had grown so stiff they had to carry her.

Jonathan had killed Jack, Mina, Lucy, Arthur, and Yamini's father. That was the idiotic conclusion they had reached in the end. And naturally, no one had listened to Yamini when she'd told him that no, Jonathan had hurt no one. That he was good and needed help.

Why would they believe her? She was just a poor little deaf girl who wasn't even from England. She wasn't even one of them. She was an outside, and people didn't help outsiders. Not really.

They had stuck her with a foster family and promptly forgot about her. A month later, it seemed that they had forgotten about the murders as well. They had new killings to deal with, new frightening deaths and severed limbs. London never seemed to stop.

And so here she was, sitting in the cosy little room her kind foster family had given her, that felt nothing like a home, and waiting for the sun to come down.

She hadn't been able to sleep while the sun was down since that night. She sleep-walked through her school days and collapsed as soon as she came home, waking up before the sun came down (that usually gave her three or four hours of sleep, if she was lucky). She spent most of her nights in the position she had currently put herself in: seated in her bed, blanket clenched in both hands, eyes trained on the window.

It wasn't as if she'd be able to do anything if Dracula came back for her. But at least she wouldn't be surprised.

Which is why she saw it right away. The fingers clutching the edges of her window still, tightening around it before pushing upwards. She could feel her heartbeat rushing, a soundless scream starting in the pit of her stomach, as a black hair appeared-

And then a forehead appeared, and eyes.

Yamini gasped, soundless, and rushed forward.

Jonathan, Jonathan, Jonathan.

While half of his body was still outside, Yamini jumped on him, surrounding his neck with her arms and pulling him close. She closed her eyes, willing her heart to calm.

She was safe now. Jonathan was here.

He hugged her back, hard and strong and oh so comforting, and gathered her into his arms. Yamini tightened her hold on Jonathan's neck while he picked her up and held her close. They stood there, clutching one another, for a few minutes. Neither seemed to want to break the peace Yamini knew Jonathan also felt. Her neck rested on his shoulder, and her nose was buried in the space between his neck and ear. She closed her eyes and placed a hand on his chest.

There was no heartbeat. Of course. She closed her eyes tighter and hung on to Jonathan, willing him silently to stay in place, to stay with her. He was no longer alive. He wasn't like her, but he wasn't as dead as her father, either. He didn't have to leave her like her father had.

Jonathan placed his hand over where Yamini's was covering his heart. She blinked her eyes open and looked at him. He smiled at her, but she had never seen anyone looking so sad. Jonathan shifted her, so she was on his hip and took his hand off hers.

 _I've missed you_ , He signed, in her native tongue. As her eyes widened, he grinned (it was more real now) and added, _I taught myself. It's amazing the things you can learn from YouTube._

 _You should have come for me earlier_ , She replied.

The grin slipped off Jonathan's face, and he shook his head, _I managed to slip away from Dracula. But knowing him, I have about three hours before he catches up with me again._

_Knowing him?_

Jonathan sighed and rubbed their noses together, affectionate, _He let me leave him. He's been hunting me ever since. I need to be far, far away from you by the time he catches up again._

_But he'll catch you. What about you?_

_I've managed to slip away at the last moment every time. I'll manage again tonight. I'm leaving London, and I wanted to see you before I leave._

He doesn't add, one last time. But it's implied. And she doesn’t like the idea of Dracula following Jonathan, chasing him like his freedom and happiness is a fox to be hunted as game. Jonathan is too good a person to be condemned to that. It's not fair.

It seemed that Jonathan could read her mind, or at least guess at her thoughts, since he sighed deeply and signed, slowly, as if wanting to make sure she doesn’t miss anything, _I'm not worth your indignation, Yamini. I've done terrible things this past month. I've killed-_

She grabbed his hand, stopping his signing, and shook her head. No, she won't have it.

_You need to kill to eat, to survive. It's not your fault. It's his, for turning you and forcing you to do it. And I'm glad you did, because otherwise you'd be dead and I would have no one._

Her father is dead, her mother is dead. She's living with strangers. Kind strangers, perhaps. But strangers none the less. And Jonathan is not a stranger. She might have only spent a very short time with him, but he's not a stranger. She supposed that dramatic experiences did that.

Jonathan swallowed, and Yamini felt a tug of panic in her chest. Quickly, she added, _And I need you to stay alive. Please?_

The way Jonathan's eyes widened told her that she'd hit the nail on the head. This was a goodbye visit, sure. But it wasn't out of London that Jonathan was planning on going.

It was out of this world.

 _If I stay alive, more people will die,_ Jonathan signed, his hands shaking.

She was glad that Jonathan was at least treating her with enough respect that he wasn't going to pretend that he wasn't planning what it was clear that he was planning.

And he was right, of course. One dead vampire meant fewer dead humans. So she squirmed out of his grasp and stood in front of him. Jonathan looked down at her (she was grateful he didn't bend to look her in the eye. Mina would have, she thought) as she signed, _Then let me come with you?_

Eyes widening, Jonathan shook his head in horror, _How could you even say that? You're a child, you've got your whole life ahead of you. You're not dying. I won't let you._

 _I don't have my whole life ahead of me_ , Yamini shook her head, hands moving quicker and quicker. _I'm going to die soon, I think. I can't keep on like this. I don't sleep, I'm scared all the time, Jonathan. And he'll probably come after me soon._

_He won't, he told me that he's staying away from you._

_But he'll get bored eventually._

_Yamini,_ Now Jonathan did go on his knees, so they were eye to eye. But it didn't feel patronizing, the way it did when most adults did it. It felt like he was joining her, not coming down to her level. Like they were equals, a pair. Partners. Like he needed her, not only the other way around. _You're scared. I know. But that doesn’t mean you can just end it. You'll get through this._

_You'll get through this, too._

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Jonathan sighed (he was sighing a lot tonight) and kissed her forehead. For a moment they stood, foreheads pressed together, and then Jonathan pulled away and signed _, I need to leave. It's dangerous for me to stay here for long. I need you to promise you won't do anything stupid. You'll take care of yourself._

 _Pinkie promise?_ Yamini raised her pinkie while signing with her other hand. _We'll both survive together? So we can kill him one day?_

 _One day,_ Jonathan agreed and raised his pinkie.

They shook on it, and then Jonathan left her. It was only once he was gone that Yamini allowed herself to collapse on the floor of her bedroom and burst into tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone...  
> I hope everyone is safe and healthy. Please, please, be careful. And seriously- don't go crazy. Panicking isn't going to help anyone.   
> Love,   
> Beserk


	11. Of Bats, Pain And Pleasure

Jonathan pulled himself up onto the roof, settling down with his legs dangling over the edge. He looked out at the London landscape, taking it all in with rapid attention.

It was odd. He felt as though he was saying goodbye to an old friend. Like a part of his soul was being wretched out of him and crushed into bits in front of his eyes. He'd felt this way when Lucy, Jack and Arthur had died, as well. The terror of not knowing who he was without this other being by his side. The confusion of finding oneself alone.

It wasn't as bad as losing Mina, of course. He didn't think anything could ever be as bad as losing Mina. Mina was him, and he was her. She kept him steady and safe and he kept her grounded. Without Mina, there was no Jonathan. Without Jonathan, Mina went mad.

This time, though, he had time to say goodbye. It wasn't a surprise; he knew this was coming. It was his choice to leave London, so he could spend a few minutes up on the building top, watching the city for the last time. He was going to miss it, dreadfully. London was too loud, and too confusing at times, and too large. But it was also home, and it didn’t need to be perfect to be that. 

He could probably say the same thing about Mina. Not perfect- but home. Not that he wanted to. Jonathan would really rather not think of Mina. It was hard enough to sleep during the day without that.

Jonathan had killed five people since he escaped from Dracula. And during his sleeping hours, they came to haunt him. They touched his body with their freezing cold fingers, caressing him and whispering so low that he couldn’t hear what they were saying. But he knew what they wanted-to slip through his skin and enter the inside of his body, where their blood resided, to steal it back and return to life. In his dreams, their fingernails became claws, like Dracula's, and they opened him up. Slowly, intimately, as though they were making love to him.

His blood would seep out, and they'd screech in pleasure and lap it up like dogs. They'd wait, for something to happen, but nothing would. And then they would start to mourn, because nothing could bring them back to life. Not even revenge. They were dead and gone. Forever.

Mina never participated in the attempt with the rest of Jonathan's victims. She stood over Jonathan, watching him being eviscerated, face expressionless. The first few nights, Jonathan begged for her help. Not because he thought he was worthy of it, it was his fault she was dead. But because Mina always saved him, even when he was unworthy. Even after she told him how unworthy he was, how useless, how pointless. Even then, she always came to him later and held him close and pulled him back together. That was their unspoken deal, what made it so he could still love her even after she hurt him.

But not this time. This time she watched, and did nothing. He stopped asking for her help. The lack of response hurt more then his skin being ripped open. During his dreams, he tried not to look at her, because if he did, he'd end up begging again. Old habits died hard.

Jonathan rubbed his eyes, stopping the flow of tears. God, he was going to miss London. Yamini was here, as well. It had taken him a few days to find out where she was, and even after he'd found out, he hadn't been sure whether it would be a good idea to go see her. Beyond the danger of accidently leading Dracula to her, he'd been so afraid that she would not want to see him. He'd let Dracula into the apartment when she was there, thus putting her at risk. He could have easily killed her, as well as Mina.

Pushing him away or trying to hit him had seemed like an entirely logical reaction from the child (though she didn't seem like a child anymore, did she? She was more adult then most adults he'd meant. And wasn't that a tragedy), but he didn't think he would have been able to handle it. Of their group, Yamini was the only one still left alive. Jonathan certainly wasn’t.

When she'd hugged him, held on to him, figured out his plan, it had made Jonathan feel as though a little sun had been placed in his dead heart, and his insides were being warmed and thawed down from the blocks of ice Dracula had frozen them into.

Jonathan closed his eyes. Well, now he couldn't die, could he? Not while Yamini was still out there, and there was a chance that she might one day need him. He'd seen the sadness and fear in her eyes, the exhaustion. It was as if the girl had not had a moment of peace since he'd left her. And he could also see- though it was clear Yamini had tried to hide it- that she was close to tears by the time he left. And the fact that he had caused her more pain somehow made Jonathan feel more worthy of death then all the people he'd killed and eaten combined.

Groaning deeply, Jonathan rubbed a hand over his face and stood up, opening his eyes. It was time to leave. He had about five hours until the sun came out, and he wanted to be hidden away in the luggage compartment of some bus or train out of London before then. That would give him an entire day to get as far away from Dracula as possible. And maybe, just maybe, this time he would be able to get far enough.

*

"Can we go home?"

Master looked up from the book he was reading and scowled at his daughter. Brandusca flinched and scrambled away on all fours and Doligen, who was watching from the sofa, smirked. Brandusca never learned when to shut up and follow.

"Yes, I'd also like to go home already."

And neither did Roxandra, it seemed.

"We're not going anywhere," Master said, voice mild and cutting. "At least until I get my bride back."

Roxandra scowled, " _We're_ your brides," She mumbled mutinously.

Ignoring the younger vampire completely, Doligen said, "He went to see the girl."

Master raised an eyebrow, "Yamini?"

"The deaf girl," Did he really expect her to be bothered to remember the girl's _name_? "Whatever her name is."

"Yamini," Master repeated.

"Fine."

Smirking, her Master threw his newspaper down, "Wonderful. And where did he go after that?"

"A bus."

"Out of town?" Master tilted is head, still looking pleased.

Doligen threw her phone at him, the one with the tracker on it. Poor little Jonathan, running so very fast. What a waste of time and energy.

They could follow him everywhere, to the ends of the world. Embedding a tracker under his skin while he had turned into a vampire made that rather easy. Doligen wasn't going to lie, there was some things she really liked about this new, modern world (though to her modern still meant the 1820s, the last time they'd ventured out of their castle. This wasn't modern- this was the fucking future).

"The direction of Oxford, Master, but who knows. He could get off at any point," Doligen reclined back on the sofa. Roxandra and Brandusca both came over and crawled on the sofa, sitting on either side of her. Doligen wondered if they thought she would or could protect them from their master.

"Hmm," Master flipped the phone a few times before pocketing it. "Let's give him a day or two. This is far to fun to end too quickly."

Doligen stifled a sigh and caressed Brandusca's hair comfortingly. It seemed that this silly chase wasn't going to be over anytime soon.

*

"Johnny….Johnny….Johnny…."

The amused-sounding chanting followed Jonathan as he climbed up the fire escape in the small town outside of Oxford. He slipped through the bars and ducked down into a balcony and slumped down, hidden under a plastic table. There was an open window just behind him, leading into a dark bedroom and Jonathan wanted to hide in there-

But of course he couldn't. He was a vampire now like Dracula, like Doligen and the twins. He could only go into an apartment if he was invited. It was fucking frustrating and limiting. It would never have occurred him before he was turned that there were advantages to being human when running from vampires. But at least before, he'd known he was safe as long as he was inside. And yes, there was always the chance (that had ended them in the end) that someone would let the vampires in, but it was still a layer of protection that he now lacked. He used to have an advantage that he no longer did.

"Johnny…"

Jonathan closed his eyes tightly and regulated his breathing. He didn't really need to breathe anymore, of course, but he'd worked hard to keep the habit going, even if it was unnecessary. If he stopped, it was just another way for him to lose his humanity.

"Come out come out wherever you are."

_Don't move, don't breathe, don't move._

They've done this dance before, nearly every night. Dracula came, asked him to come out from his hiding place, and then walked past him. Sometimes Doligen joined in, sounding bored and rather annoyed. He was never caught, and the fact that Jonathan had thought he would have more time before Dracula found him again made no difference. He could still escape. He would not be caught.

He could. He would. He would not allow himself to be caught.

"Johnny, sweetheart," Jonathan put his fist into his mouth to stop a whimper. Dracula sounded so, so close. "This has been rather fun, hasn't it? What do you say, one more night or it's time for this to end?"

_Don't move, don't breathe, don't move._

_Don't move._

_Don't breathe._

_Don’t move._

"One more night, then."

*

It was a game. A game for Dracula. Jonathan was a mouse, and Dracula a cat, toying with him.

He should have known. He should have realized long ago that he never had a chance to escape. He should have bloowy well known. He had no idea how he'd allowed himself to think that he ever had a chance. Of _course_ he never had a chance. Of _course_ he'd been doomed from the moment he came back to life.

Jonathan whimpered, curling into himself. He was hidden in the basement of a small mall for the day. His last day of freedom, it seemed. He rubbed his eyes and pulled his legs up to his chest, curling his arms around them.

He wanted to go home. He wasn't sure where home _was_ anymore, precisely. It wasn't his childhood home, it wasn't the apartment he shared with Mina. He didn’t even know what he was pining for, except a feeling. The feeling of safety and completion that one got from being home.

It was childish, but he wanted his dad, for his father to come and hold him, take him somewhere far away and safe. He missed the time he believed his father could fix everything, defeat every monster hiding in the shadows.

Sometimes Jonathan wondered if the worst moment in a person's life, the most devastatingly crushing, was the first time you learned that your parents weren't invincible. That they were just like you: they got scared and they didn't know so much after all.

Perhaps that was where all the cruelties of human nature came from. That deep-dark disappointment, the moment when the world came crushing down on you.

Perhaps no one ever truly healed from that.

Idly, Jonathan wondered what that moment was like for Dracula. It was rather unsettling, to imagine him as a child, but he must have been at some point. When Jonathan was in the castle with him, Dracula had talked about his pride at being Transylvanian, which meant he had once been a human.

To become the monster that he was, Dracula must have had a bloody terrible childhood. Perhaps he'd never had a moment like that. Perhaps he'd simply never had that belief in his parents.

That would make sense. Dracula didn't seem to have any belief in anything but himself.

*

When Jonathan woke up, curled into himself, the first thing he saw was Dracula's face in front of his eyes. He blinked, the fear curling inside of him like wisps of smoke. He waited for the fear to turn into panic, but it never did. What was the point in panic when he knew just what was about to happen?

"Hello, little Johnny," Dracula whispered, placing two fingers on Jonathan's cheekbone and moving them slowly to caress his skin, up to his hair. He grasped Jonathan's hair, hard, and pulled his head up. Jonathan closed his eyes, forcing himself to remain quiet and not whimper in pain.

He opened his eyes as he felt fangs dragging over the skin of his neck. Dracula wasn't going to drink from him, was he? Not now, when he'd never done so before. Agatha had told him that drinking straight from humans had an effect on their minds, but Jonathan wasn't a human anymore, so what would it mean for him to be drunk from?

"Johnny, are you scared?" Dracula murmured against his skin, and Jonathan shuttered. He remembered that soft whispering, and what it had meant back in the castle. Everything was so different now, though.

"Yes," Jonathan replied, there wasn't much point in lying, was there? There was no point in any type of fighting.

"Good boy, telling me the truth."

Jonathan gasped in shock as Dracula suddenly grabbed him and threw him on the ground, crawling over him.

"Stop," Jonathan shivered as Dracula placed a hand over his neck and squeezed, hard. He didn't need his throat free to breathe, but the hold kept him in place as he tried to squirm out of the way. "Stop, please. Please-"

"Hush, hush," Dracula hummed, his free hand crawling down. "It's quite all right, my darling."

"No, no," Jonathan kicked his feet, his private decision not to fight forgotten as the clawed hand reached his pants and started to unzip them.

Dracula ignored him completely, slipping his fingers into the now open pants, and cupped his cock, through his underwear. Jonathan whimpered in horror as he slumped backwards, biting his lip. He didn't want this, he didn't want this-

"Oh, I've missed this," Dracula sighed. He sounded so _pleased_. Jonathan wanted to die.

"I should have killed myself," Jonathan whispered. "I shouldn't have let you catch me."

"Oh, my darling, Johnny, always so very dramatic," Dracula pulled Jonathan's pants off and slipped his hand past the underwear. Jonathan gasped in shock as skin hit skin, making his cock jump up in attention.

Why did it happen so _fast_?

Dracula, of course, noticed as well, and let out a cruel back of laughter, "Oh, you've _missed_ me sweetheart, haven't you?"

"No, I haven’t!"

"Hmm, your pretty little cock tells a rather different story."

"I hate you," Jonathan panted, closing his eyes as Dracula placed his thumb on Jonathan's tip, pulling his foreskin to the side, and pressed down. "I'm going to kill you-"

"I'm sure you'll try," Dracula let go of Jonathan's throat for a moment to pat his head, as though he were a child he was trying to encourage. And while Jonathan was distracted with being blindly furious, Dracula surrounded his rock-hard member with his hand and began to pump.

Oh, God, if only it didn't feel so good. If only he was suffering while it was happening. Jonathan thought he could survive any amount of pain being forced on him. But this violation, being forced to take pleasure from his tormentor, the creature who had killed his loved ones, this was an attack on his sanity that he didn't know if he could survive.

There was nowhere to escape as Dracula reached down and swallowed Jonathan into his mouth. He couldn’t escape into his mind, it was taken over by the sparks of pleasure and pain as Dracula bit him harshly and sucked on the blood that escaped from his flesh. So this was what being drank from as a vampire was like. It made him feel a pleasure in a level of intensity had had never felt before. Nothing could even come close to the feeling of pain forcing daggers of ecstasy into his mind.

Jonathan screamed and buckled up, coming into Dracula's mouth, spilling blood and semen into the creature's throat. He gasped and groaned, trying to come down from the horrifyingly high high he'd just been subjected to. But he couldn't stop shivering and convulsing on the floor, his body refusing to calm down.

"Shh, darling, hush."

The voice seemed to come from very far away, and Jonathan felt a pressure on his skin. Someone was touching him.

"It's all right. First time tends to be rather dramatic."

The voice sounded amused, and pleased. It had gotten what it wanted.

"Do you know something, my love? I think we'll leave it at that for now. This chase is rather fun for me. I hope you're enjoying it as well. I'll see you soon."

And then the voice disappeared, and Jonathan was left alone to shake and cry and force himself back from the edge of insanity.

*

"How long is this going to go on?"

Dracula looked up to see Doligen coming to stand next to him at the balcony. He shrugged and said, "As long as I continue to find this enjoyable."

There was a moment of silence and then Doligen said dryly, "Forever, then."

Dracula laughed, "For quite a while, at least."


	12. of Bats and the Art of Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! There will be implied self-harm done by a minor this chapter. Just implied but still. And I swear she'll be fine.

The next two weeks, Yamini waited. She waited in class, she waiting while trying to do her homework. She waited while at dinner, she waited while she was forced to sit in therapy session after therapy session. She waited in her dreams. She waited for Jonathan. Because surely, no matter what he said, Jonathan would never actually leave her. He'll come back for hr, won't he?

He didn’t.

And is she had thought the lack of contact was bad before, well. Now it was utterly unbearable. Now she knew, for certain, that he was out there. Alive and free. So he could come, if he wanted to, to take her away. And if he didn’t, that meant he was choosing not to. Yamini didn’t care much if he thought it was for her own good. Clearly Jonathan was an idiot who needed her to think. Because it wasn’t better for her to be alone, and it certainly wasn't better for her to live like this, terrified every moment that Dracula would come for her. If they were together, at least she would have someone to hug her when she tried to sleep.

Her father used to do that, when Yamini had nightmares about losing her mother. And her mother had as well, when Yamini was very young and her nightmares were still unconnected to reality. Like every young child, she dreamt of monsters crawling out from under her bed to come for her. She supposed that her mother had the easier job. She could tell her that the monsters weren't real, and she was safe. Her father couldn't tell her that the nightmares weren't real. They were. Her mother truly was gone.

It had still helped, to huddle into her father's bed and be held, watch his hands as he told her stories to get her back to sleep. Yamini doubted Jonathan would be able to tell her stories like that, her father was truly the best in telling stories. But he _could_ hold her, and he could talk to her. He was choosing not to.

And more then annoying of frightening, it was _infuriating_.

Who did he think he was, staying away from her? Self-scarifying dickhead. _Oh, no, Yamini, I need to stay away for your own good._ But did anyone care what _she_ thought her own good was? She might be a child, but she wasn't a baby. She was twelve! She was more mature then all the other children in her class combined! She knew what she needed, if only they would listen to her. No one ever listened to her. Her father hadn't listened when she begged they stayed home in India, he didn't listen when she told him that she couldn't make new friends and just wanted to go back to her old ones. Jonathan didn't even bother asking her what she wanted. He just decided for the both of them.

It wasn't _fair_. The worst part was, Yamini was sure that Jonathan was still keeping tabs on her. She wasn't sure how she knew, but she did. The past few days, she'd been feeling as though she was being watched, but when she turned there was no one there. Jonathan had returned to London, she was sure of it, and he was watching over her from afar.

And he didn't consider giving her the courtesy of letting her know that he was all right. Did he think she didn't care? Did he want her not to care? Maybe he thought that if she didn’t hear from him, she'd somehow forget about him. Well, if he thought that, then he was even stupider then she thought.

Yamini scowled and looked out the window. She was in yet another therapy session (she had to go to them three times a week), and ignoring the therapist completely. Not that there was anything wrong with her, she was actually quite nice. An Indian woman with a deaf son, she had a soft and warm smile that reminded Yamini of her favourite teacher back home. Probably because of her son, her sign language was perfect.

Yamini really didn't want to talk to her, but she made the mistake of turning away from the window, which gave the therapist the chance to sign, _How did you sleep last night?_

Frowning, Yamini pulled her legs up onto the sofa chair and signed back, _Like normal. What does it matter?_

The therapist sighed, _Yamini. You need to talk to me. I can't help you unless we talk._

 _You can't help me anyways_ , Yamini gritted her teeth, feeling anger grow and raise in her. _Because you don’t listen to me. I tried to tell you, Jonathan isn't a murderer. I need to see him. Nothing will be ok for me until I do. I can't sleep until I do._

 _I know you miss him_ , The therapist replied. _And whether or not he did what he is being accused of-right now, between the two of us, it doesn’t actually matter. Because whether or not he's a murderer, you feel that you need him, but you can't have him. And so we need to learn, the two of us together, how to help you survive without him._

_That won't work._

_And why is that?_

_Because I can't survive without him._

_I know you feel that way, but logically-_

Luckily, Yamini looked at the clock at that exact moment and jumped up, signing to let the therapist know that their session was over (which was good, because if she had to sit there any longer she was quite sure she'd have punched the woman). The therapist smiled knowingly, and let Yamini know they would continue 'this discussion' on their next session. Yamini rushed out of the door, deciding that she wasn't going to be coming to the next session.

Jonathan was keeping an eye on her, so she could send him a message.

It would have to be a very large message, Yamini pondered while she stomped back to her foster home. The kind of message that Jonathan would be unable to ignore, and then he would come back for her and take her and she would be safe and he wouldn't be alone. Yamini could make him less sad, she knew she could.

Screw her therapist, she couldn’t survive without Jonathan and no, she wasn't going to try. She wanted Jonathan- she was going to fucking have him, the asshole.

 _Yamini,_ Her foster mother smiled as she walked in the door. _How was your session?_

Ignoring the woman completely, Yamini pushed past the three boys playing video games in the living room and slammed her bedroom door closed. She threw her bag on her bed and stomped on her carpeted floor, back and forth. Now, what would bring Jonathan back to her? Clearly her being miserable wasn't enough. But he would come if she was in danger. There was no doubt in her mind about that. He was staying away to keep her safe, but if he learned it wasn't working, he'd come for her.

Yamini rubbed her forehead. How would she put herself in danger? She could sneak out in the middle of the night and go to the more dangerous parts of town. But those places weren't just dangerous for her physical safety. Yamini wasn't entirely sure what happened in those places, but her father had told her to never go there because she would see things she was too young for. And one boy from her class had told her he meant things with _sex._

No, she wouldn't go there.

She could jump out of the window. If Jonathan was down there, he'd catch her. But what if he wasn't? He wasn't always there, watching over her. Just sometimes.

It needed to be something slow. Something that would draw his attention right away but give her time if he wasn't so close.

Yamini's breath hitched. She knew what she needed to do. Just the thought made her nearly whimper in fear, but she needed to be brave now. It would hurt, but it would get her Jonathan. It was worth it.

She waited for the night to fall and for everyone else in the household to fall asleep. Then she went to the kitchen and took the sharpest knife she could find.

*

When she next opened her eyes, Dracula was grinning down at her.

_My, my, aren't you a naughty girl?_


	13. Of Bats and the Pleasure of Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, warning for discussion of self harm done by a minor!  
> And again, I swear she's fine!   
> Well, you know, physically. I don't think any of them are all right emotionally.

Games only continued to be fun as long as they were surprising. There was absolutely not joy to be gained from a plan going exactly according to…well, _plan_. Dracula who enjoyed a good game more than anything (though, perhaps it was fairer to say that everything became good when it was a game. Fucking was better when it was a game of will between participates, a hunt was better when it was a game of cat and mouse, and so on) spend most of his time looking for ways to make his games more surprising. Which was why Castle Dracula was such a dreary place to live in. His three brides could be surprising- especially Doligen. When she was in the right sort of mindset, there was frankly no way to know what the bloody hell she would do next- but the castle didn't offer many opportunities for new experiences. It didn’t matter how unique and creative someone was. Without new stimuli, everyone eventually ran out of things to do.

Which was what made England so very fun.

He almost regretted allowing Doligen to place the tracker in Jonathan, thus making it rather easy to find him. But the brilliant thing about Jonathan was that despite that, he was still surprising.

For instance, Dracula would never had expected him to return to London. Yet, here they were. Back to where Jonathan's friends had died. Back to a place that must just be _brimming_ with one tragic memory after the other.

Now that they were in London, Jonathan was a bit more predictable. Without consulting the tracker, Dracula knew that there was at least a twenty to thirty chance that Jonathan was hovering over the girl. Dracula often wondered what it was exactly that Jonathan was expecting. Did he think that Dracula was about to come kill the girl?

Well. To be fair, that _did_ sound like him.

But while Jonathan was being rather predictable, the job of surprising Dracula seemed to have been passed over, at least for now, to the little girl.

He was sitting in a park a few streets away from the little girl's home, waiting to see if Jonathan would come by, when he smelled it.

Blood, sweet intoxicating blood. He sat up, sniffing the air. The little girl-it was her blood.

"Oh, Yamini would _have_ you been doing?" He could only imagine how broken his sweet little boy would be if his child died. That was probably best avoided. Broken Johnny was far from being the most fun Johnny. He was still fun, but not the most fun.

Dracula sighed deeply and ran over to the girl's home. He looked through the open window to see Yamini sitting at the table in the kitchen, clutching her wrist with her eyes wide open and entirely taken over by pain. There was a stained knife resting on her lap and blood was gashing from between the fingers the girl was pressing against her skin. She was illuminated by the light behind her, making her seem to be almost shining. And wasn't that appropriate? Humans always mistook suffering for divinity.

It frankly didn't take a genius to understand what had happened here. The only question was why. Did she truly want to die, or was she looking for a reaction? For Jonathan to come to the rescue? Well, she was a little girl, wasn't she, and little girls had the tendency to adore their prince charmings.

Dracula grinned and waved, waiting for Yamini to turn her eyes to him. By the time she did, her eyes were nearly closed, and it was clear to Dracula by the smile on her face that she could no longer see clearly enough to differentiate between him and Jonathan. She jerked her head, inviting Dracula in. What a good child she was.

Dracula just managed to reach Yamini when she collapsed. He caught her easily and used his larger and much stronger fingers to stop her bleeding. Still, it was a close thing.

"How dramatic. You're worst then Johnny, I swear," Dracula rolled his eyes. He bit his lip, causing a few drops of blood to drip out. He caught the blood in his finger and smeared it over the girl's wound, which immediately closed. Yamini groaned and slumped down, entirely passed out. Sighing (children could be so very overdramatic, couldn't they?) Dracula hoisted her over his shoulder and rushed out of the apartment, where he stopped and sniffed the air.

Ah. Johnny was running over. It would take him a few moments to get there. Dracula deliberated for half a moment and then grinned, running away. This was going to be so very fun.

*

"Are we taking in strays, now?" Doligen said dryly as Dracula came into their lair and threw Yamini down on the floor. The child gasped out in pain, eyes still closed.

"This one's more like bait," Dracula replied, settling down on a chair. "Would you take her to the other room? My little bride is on his way."

Doligen sighed deeply, grabbed Yamini's unhurt wrist and pulled her into the bedroom. Before disappearing, Doligen stuck her head out of the door to tell Dracula, "You know my thoughts on the matter, Master."

"We’ll return home," Dracula told her sharply. "It's not as if you don't have the time to entertain my amusement. You've got all of eternity."

"It's not even about boredom for me," Doligen told him quietly. "I'm just not sure what your plan is, here. Just keep chasing him forever and ever? I don't think he'll be able to survive that for long."

"Hmm," To be fair, Doligen wasn't wrong. And he had been wondering about that as well. How far could he push Johnny until the boy broke? And if he broke, would Dracula be able to put him back together?

Yes, but not here. Not in England where all the memories of what had broken him lay. When Johnny broke, Dracula would have to take him back home to Transylvania. Which was actually a rather good idea.

Dracula should really just go ahead and break Johnny. Should be fun.

On the other hand…there was so much that could be done with a (relatively) unbroken Johnny. And as he said to Doligen, they had eternity. He could play this out, then break the boy and play _that_ out.

"Well, it will be enjoyable either way," He told his oldest bride.

Doligen and Dracula exchanged a look before Doligen rolled her eyes and closed the door. She won't come out and say that she thought he was making a mistake, she had too much respect (and fear) for her Master to do that. Though, it was clear what she thought: that he should stop playing with his food, snatch Johnny up and take them all home. She wanted Dracula to train up Johnny, the way he had with her and the twins, so they could set up a life in London without being worried Johnny would try and ruin that life.

She was rather looking forward to it, Dracula knew. Like him, Doligen was going mad with boredom in their castle. Well, Johnny was going to make life more interesting for them, Dracula was sure.

He grinned when the door to the apartment burst open and Johnny appeared in the doorway, his hands clenched into fists and eyes narrowed in fury.

Oh, he was absolutely beautiful. Perfect. Dracula wasn't sure how he'd survived all those centuries without Johnny by his side. There was such _anger_ in the young man, hidden behind the veneer of the vulnerable, kind and gentle nonthreatening professional. Dracula imagined that the boy had spent his entire life being taught to repress that anger, lock it far away and never let it out. It was what had allowed Mina to take control of him so easily: he'd never been taught to fight back.

His entire life he'd probably been told that he was stronger, and bigger than all the girls around him. and that meant that he could hurt them so very easily, and had to be so very careful with them. And because he was stronger, the little girls couldn't hurt him back. But of course that was ridiculous. Dracula had watched Doligen break down the minds of men, transforming them into simpering, frightened worms that hung off her, begging for validation. And she did that with nothing but her words.

Not that Johnny could understand that. He thought he was weak for falling apart by Mina's hands. He didn't realize that made him human. But he wasn't human anymore.

"Johnny, my sweet boy," Dracula purred, leaning forward. "Look at you. You look like a monster. Beautiful."

"Where is she?" Johnny sneered, punching the air in front of the door, trying to enter the house. But of course he couldn’t. The downside of vampirism. "Is Yamini alive-"

"Really, Johnny, what do you think of me? Didn't I promise you not to kill the girl?" Dracula rolled his eyes. "Besides, if I'd left her alone, she'd have died."

"No, she wouldn't. I was right there," Johnny shook his head. "I was right behind you; I would have saved her. I didn't need you!"

"Don't be ridiculous. You need me more then you know," Dracula stood up and walked over to the door. "Would you like to come in, lovely?"

"Bring Yamini to me, give her back to me."

"No, I don't think I'll do that," Dracula sighed, leaning against the door. He was nose to nose with Johnny, one little tip forward and they'd be touching. He hadn't touched Johnny since the time at the mall outside of Oxford where he'd sucked the boy off. Pleasant memory, that. "I think we might need to negotiate for her."

Johnny froze, taking a few steps backwards, "What do you want."

"Well…" Dracula tilted his head, pretending to think.

"Don't play games with me," Johnny sneered. "Just tell me."

"Oh, you're no fun, sweet boy," Dracula sighed deeply. "All right then. I want to fuck your mouth."

A blink, a shiver, and then a scramble backwards.

"No," Johnny shook his head, his back hitting the wall. "No!"

"No? Oh, well, I suppose it's up to you," Dracula shrugged. "But if you're not going to be needing the girl, I'm a bit hungry-"

"Don't you dare," Johnny punched the air, right next to Dracula's nose. It was rather cute, he seemed to have forgotten he was a vampire for a moment.

"Oh, frightening," Dracula pretended to shiver. "Aren't you a scary monster, love? Well. As I said, it's up to you. If you want the girl back, alive, get on your knees. Now."

"I…" Johnny swallowed, shaking his head.

"Your choice. You'll get the girl back. Dead or alive. That's your choice."

The boy shivering, he was close to giving in. So Dracula lowered his voice, to a commanding tone that Johnny would recognize from the castle.

"On your knees. _Now_."

Johnny got on his knees, slowly, keeping his eyes on Dracula.

*

"Now give her back to me," Jonathan whispered when it was over, chocking and collapsing down on the ground. Poor little boy, he was utterly exhausted.

"Give me a moment, darling," Dracula zipped himself up. "I'll go get the girl."

He opened the door to the bedroom just in time to see Yamini's eyes fluttering open, and he grinned, the first thing she saw when she woke up.

_My, my, aren't you a naughty girl?_

Yamini flinched as Doligen asked dryly, "Had a good time?"

"Marvelous," Dracula hunched down next to Yamini and signed, _Johnny is waiting for you. Would you like to go to him?_

The girl nodded, weakly, and tried to stand up. She was far too weak, however, and just collapsed back to the ground.

 _Really, Yamini, do you need me to do everything for you?_ Dracula leaned down and grabbed the girl, throwing her over his shoulder. He waved to Doligen, who raised an eyebrow at him, and made his way out of the bedroom with the struggling girl, who seemed to be under the impression she was about to become a sacrificial lamb. Instead, she was deposited on the ground in front of Johnny.

"Yamini!" Johnny scrambled up, grabbing the girl into a powerful bear hug. Yamini hugged him back, so strongly that he stumbled onto the ground.

"Well, isn't this sweet?" Dracula smirked, leaning against the wall and folding his arms.

Johnny glared at him, carefully standing up with Yamini still held tightly in his arms. With the girl hiding her face in the crock of his shoulder, Johnny said quietly, "Are you going to try and stop us from leaving?"

"Try? Oh, my Johnny, do you really think that if I didn't want you to leave, you'd have a chance of doing so?" Dracula snorted, and when Johnny stiffened, he sighed. "Calm yourself, darling. You can take the girl. I'll see you in, oh, shall we say a week or two?"

"If I take her home-"

"I think it's become quite clear that Yamini wants to be part of this game," Dracula said softly. And having her around might slow Johnny's decent into madness. It was worth a try. "Why don't you take her with you? Take her home, I'm sure to come see her again."

Johnny swallowed and held the girl closer, "You're a terrible person."

Amusingly, he said that like an insult.

"I'm not a person, love," Dracula replied, then leaned forward to brush a strand of hair out of Johnny's face. "I'm a monster, remember? Just like you. Now, _run_."

Johnny ran.


	14. Of Bats and Running Away

_Well, I guess you got what you wanted, didn't you?_ Jonathan wrote on the pad of paper before passing it to Yamini. He was trying very hard to stop himself form hitting something. They were sitting in a train on the way to Paris, so this was probably not the time nor place for anger. What would happen if he punched a whole in the train? Nothing good, to be sure. At least for all the humans around him. He'd be fine. It took more then that to kill him now, unfortunately.

Yamini glared up at him, and wrote back, _Yes._

Bloody hell, what was he supposed to say to her? How did one explain to a child that _hurting oneself_ was, in fact, a rather bad way to go about things? Especially when it had gotten exactly what said child had wanted. She was running away to Paris with him.

How fun.

Yamini had fallen asleep while being taken away from Dracula, so while Jonathan snuck them into the train, he didn't have the time or appropriate audience to be properly angry. At quite the large number of things he had to be angry about. And most of them he was not bloody willing to think about.

Johnny rubbed his face and wrote, _You could have died._

Yamini grabbed the pad back from him and threw it on the table in front of them. The man sitting in front of him gave Johnny a sympathetic look. He probably thought he was an older brother having to deal with a bratty younger sister. Which was, too be fair, rather close to the truth. Oddly enough.

 _I don't care!_ She signed, angrily, scowling _. I wanted to be with you. And you need me._

 _I don't need you, and besides, you're twelve. Remember that small fact?_ Jonathan glared. _What exactly can you do for me?_

_Keep you human._

Well.

To be fair, he hadn't expected to hear that. Jonathan rubbed his face before signing, slowly, _Yamini, I'm not a human anymore. You can't do that for me._

 _You seem human to me,_ Yamini replied. _A very sad human._

_Just because I don't look like a monster doesn't mean I'm not one._

_You're not a monster_ , Yamini insisted.

_I've killed people, Yamini. Or did you bloody well forget that small fact?_

_I don't care! You're not a monster, you're the only family I have left!_

He wasn't, though. He barely knew her; they'd spent a few days together. Why did it feel, then, like letting her out of his sight would end in tragedy?

Probably because it had, last time he did.

But it was worse than that. Somehow, at some point, Jonathan had become responsible for Yamini. Not just for her physical safety, but her emotional one as well. He wanted her to live, of course he did. But that was just a small part of it. He wanted her to be happy, he wanted her to thrive. He wanted her to grow up and become everything she wanted to become.

He didn't want this life for her, but she had forced his hand.

Jonathan groaned and rubbed his face, before Yamini grabbed his hand and pulled it away. He looked down at her to see her curl against his side, hanging on to his arm with one of her own.

 _Don’t be angry at me_ , Her fingers shook as she signed. _Please_.

Oh, bloody fucking hell.

Jonathan sighed deeply and hugged Yamini back.

 _You shouldn't have hurt yourself_ , He told her. _No matter what your reason was. It was dangerous, and you're so good, Yamini. You're such a good person. You deserve to live._

_But you're not going to send me away, are you?_

_No,_ Jonathan shook his head. _I won't._

Yamini smiled and snuggled up close to Jonathan, closing her eyes. He took a (metaphorical) deep breath and tapped her nose, forcing her to open her eyes again.

 _I need you to realize the magnitude of what you just did_ , He signed. Yamini stiffened, and moved slightly away from him, watching with her eyes wide and invested. _Because your life is about to change forever, and there is no going back. You are going to be on the run for the rest of your life. You're going to have to start sleeping during the day and be awake during the night. You're going to celebrate your birthdays while running away from monsters. I'll try to hide you from it, but you might end up seeing me feeding. Dracula will come, he will threaten you to get me to do what he wants. He might try to hurt you, if he thinks it's amusing. And despite all of our efforts, it might not work. Dracula might decide he's sick of this game and will take me away, and leave you alone. That's what you've signed up for._

 _I knew that_ , Yamini replied. _But you're worth it._

Jonathan closed his eyes, holding the girl to him.

*

Dracula picked his phone out and looked at the little red dot telling him where Jonathan was. So. Paris. He hadn't been in France for quite some time.

Should be fun.

"Here we go again, little Johnny."


	15. Of Bats and Arriving in France

Jonathan watched as underneath him women came in and out of the bathroom. He was holding on to the ceiling, hovering above the hall in the train station like some kind of bloody demonic spider. He'd found out about this particular ability a few weeks earlier, when he'd jumped into the air to avoid being detected by the wife of the man he'd been feeding from. He'd flown upward, hit the ceiling- and stayed there.

At which point he had to wait there and watch as the woman screamed out, and he'd died inside, just a little bit more. He recognized that screech of despair, the shock and confusion of losing the person you loved most. It was the same sound as what Jack had made, when he found out that Lucy had been killed. It was the same sound a part of his heart had let out when Dracula had told him Mina was dead.

He'd forced himself to move as the woman collapsed by her lover's side, and scramble out of the windows. The woman's scream rang in his ears for days, and the man joined the group of tormentors in his dreams.

The odd power had remained. That was probably the one thing he got pleasure out of, nowheredays: discovering all of his new abilities. That is, if he ignored the price he paid for them.

 _Well, that's not entirely true, is it_ , a nasty little part of himself reminded him. _You get pleasure form Dracula, from him sucking you off. And you even got a little pleasure from when you were the one doing the sucking, didn’t you-_

The bathroom door flew open, and another woman came out. He scrambled down and walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. The stalls were entirely empty, save for the last one. Jonathan walked up to that stall and wiggled his hand underneath the door until he got it slapped away. Good, meant he was noticed.

The second later the door opened and Yamini appeared. She gave him a tired and rather pissed look, which he supposed from her point of view was rather fair. She'd spent hours waiting for him in the bathroom while he went to get what they needed, after all.

_You all right there, little one?_

He grinned when Yamini responded by hitting him hard on the arm, _What to do you think? I was stuck in a toilet stall for hours._

 _My guess would be bored,_ Jonathan replied, dumping the contents of his bag on the skin. Yamini wondered over and peeked.

A pair of scissors, bleach, jeans and a boys' T-shirt with a football on it. Jonathan watched the girl. She was smart, it wouldn't take her long to figure out.

When she did, the explosion was rather magnificent.

She grabbed all of the items and threw them on the floor, eyes wide with fury. Jonathan managed to grab the bleach while the rest of the objects fell to the ground. As he looked up with the bottle in his hand, he just managed to grab Yamini's leg before she kicked him straight in the nose.

 _You want me to cut my hair?_ Yamini's arms flew around wildly. _You think I can pass as a boy?_

 _I think people see what they want to see_ , Jonathan replied, letting go of her leg to do so. _And if they see a young person with short hair and boys' clothing they'll automatically assume that person is a boy._

_I'm not cutting my hair._

_We need to hide you. The police are going to be searching for you, you're underage and missing. And your kitchen is full of your blood._

Yamini flinched, but then shook her head and signed, _In France?!_

 _Probably not, but we can't be too careful_ , Jonathan replied as he started to pick the objects up. _I know you're not fond of this idea, but-_

She grabbed his hands, breathing deeply and furiously, _I'm not cutting my hair. I've never cut my hair._

_It's a sacrifice for you, I understand. But it needs to be done._

Yamini shook her head wildly, and bit her lip. She suddenly looked very young indeed, and Jonathan wanted to slap himself for forgetting that she _was_ , in fact, that young. She was a child. Just because she didn't always act like one did not actually mean that she wasn't one. He needed to remember that.

 _I'm sorry_ , Jonathan gently pushed a strand of hair out of Yamini's eyes. _But you made your choice. And this is what needs to be done. To give us another layer of protection. When we go anywhere with a camera you could be spotted. I don't appear in cameras, you do._

But the girl shook her head again, stubbornly.

 _Fine_ , Jonathan stood up, suddenly losing his patience entirely _. Then we'll go straight to the Paris police and hand you over. Because I can't worry about being chased around by the humans as well. Dracula and his brides are bloody enough. I'm not taking you with me unless you disguise yourself._

Yamini watched him, just a bit of fear in her eyes. It broke Jonathan's heart, that Yamini had been afraid of him for a moment. But then the girl nodded, once, and it was worth it.

*

"Do you remember when we were here last?" Doligen asked, looking around with a small smile on her face.

"For the Revolution," Dracula grinned, wistful. "All these beheadings…you enjoyed yourself."

"So did you," Doligen replied. "You got Matilde there."

Dracula glared at his eldest bride. He didn't like the reminder of previous brides, the ones he had lost. And especially not _that_ bride, who had stepped into the sun a few decades after her birth. But Doligen smirked back at him as she settled down on one of the boxes holding the twins. She knew what she was doing.

"That situation is not the same as this one, Doligen," He said sharply.

"Isn't it?"

"Matilde never should have been my bride," Dracula said. "It was a mistake to turn her. And besides, Jonathan isn't going to do anything to himself. Not while he has the girl with him."

"Hmm, that's probably true," Doligen hummed, and then tilted her head in thought. "And when she dies?"

"Hopefully by that point I'll be bored of this game."

"If you want to speed this up," Doligen said slowly, as if waiting to be told to shut up. But Dracula waved his hand to get her to keep talking. "You could have her die. I'm quite certain he'd crawl back to you."

"Or kill himself."

"Well, if we're there we'll stop him. He'll collapse into your arms then, broken and pulled apart."

Dracula snorted and placed a hand on the back of Doligen's neck, pulling her over, "Stop trying to make this end before I want it to."

Doligen just smiled up at him, "It's not a bad idea."

"No, it's not a bad idea," Dracula agreed. "When I'm bored of this, I'll consider it. Thank you for the suggestion."

"Always glad to be of service."

"Ooph, sarcasm. One of your best qualities, my dear."

Doligen laughed.

*

 _There_ , Jonathan signed. _We're done._

Yamini nodded, and moved past him to the bathroom mirror. Jonathan took hold of the girl and hoisted her up on the sink, so she could see herself clearly.

He'd cut her hair to resemble his style, since it was the only one he could do moderately well. He'd spend the last few years cutting Jack's hair whenever it got too long, and having Jack doing the same from him (Jack tended to forget about cutting his hair, the same way he forgot to do most things that were disconnected from his work, so Jonathan had taken charge of that), and since he wanted to make sure Yamini's hair looked as good as possible.

Jonathan swallowed. He didn't want to think about Jack right now. He didn't want to think about Jack at all.

Yamini frowned, tilting her head back and forth. It was rather odd, seeing her with blond, short hair. But it certainly changed her appearance by quite a significant margin. Especially with the boys' clothing she was wearing, Jonathan was quite sure she would not be recognized. Not that the chance of her being recognized in Paris was…. well, at all plausible. But there was another reason for the disguise, a reason he did not want to point out to the girl.

A man travelling with a young girl would draw much more attention then a man travelling with a young boy. He should bloody know, himself. Travelling with his father, he'd never been stopped. But Mina told him many stories of how she and her dad had been stopped quite a bit.

Especially when it was quite clear that Jonathan and Yamini were not related. They certainly didn't look anything alike. They needed to be rather careful with that.

 _What do you think?_ Jonathan signed at Yamini through the mirror.

The girl bit her lip, tilting her head to the other side, and then signed back, _I look terrible._ Her lower lip was quivering, close to tears.

Jonathan pushed himself up on the sink and placed an arm around Yamini, pulling her against his side, _No. You look beautiful._

_You're lying to make me feel better. I'm an ugly boy._

Jonathan hid his face away for a moment, forced to hide his grin, before turning back and signing, _You'd made a beautiful anything. Besides, you're not a boy. This is a disguise, it's a costume. Remember that?_

Yamini glared at him through the mirror.

_Haven't you ever put on a costume?_

_Of course I have._

_Well, there you go. Just think of this as a costume. You can look ugly, even though I don’t think you do, since it doesn’t matter. It's a costume._

_But a costume you can take off._

Well, that was true.

Yamini took a deep breath and signed, _Will I ever be able to take this costume off?_

 _Yes_ , Jonathan replied, deciding that blunt honesty was probably the way to go. _When you get older and can't pass as a boy anymore._

_What will we do then?_

_Find a different costume._


	16. Of Bats and Lay Off Days

Yamini yawned, rubbing her eyes with one hand as she hurried to catch up to Jonathan. She was exhausted, but wasn't going to ask for a stop. Jonathan was trying to find a place for them to stay in for the day, which was quickly approaching, and Yamini knew that slowing him down in that was a very bad idea.

She grabbed Jonathan's hand, feeling slightly better for it. It was around one in the morning, and this was not a good time to be walking the streets of a major city. She could see people watching her and Jonathan from the dark. People drinking and smoking and following the young, posh looking man (she loved that word. _Posh_. Jonathan wasn't actually posh, though-he just looked like he came out of the royal family and was plunked into everyday clothes) dragging a large suitcase along with him. He probably looked like an easy mark, especially when you consider the child (young boy. Boy!) trailing after him.

One of these men stood up from his seat on a doorstep, and Yamini tightened her hold on Jonathan's hand. The men walked towards them, followed by a few others. Terrified, Yamini pulled on Jonathan's arm, but he just kept walking and didn't even look down at her. She bit her lip and kept her hold on Jonathan.

The men were walking behind them, now, following slowly. She tugged at Jonathan's arm again, terrified, and this time Jonathan stopped, looked down at her and then pointed forward. Yamini let her eyes wonder up to see a dingy looking hotel sign. She sighed and rubbed her eyes.

 _It doesn’t look like much,_ She pointed out.

 _All we need is a place with curtains,_ Jonathan replied.

 _What about bedbugs?_ Yamini replied as she followed Jonathan into the hotel.

 _I'll kill them all for you, promise_ , Jonathan smirked.

The hotel was disgustingly dirty, and dingy and dark and all sorts of other bad things that started with the letter D. But Jonathan got them a room with two beds and as soon as Yamini locked the door behind them and threw the key (it was a physical key- very quaint. That was a good British word. _Quaint_ ) on the bed, Jonathan jumped on the bed after it and lay down, resting his hands behind his head.

He turned to look at her and Yamini signed, _It's gross._

Jonathan grinned, looking so very fond of her, and signed, _We'll survive it. Why don't you go take a shower first? I'll go after you._

Yamini nodded, and Jonathan nodded back at her and closed his eyes. She took a few steps towards the bathroom, and then turned to look at Jonathan, and swallowed.

He was laying on the bed, with his eyes closed. It was as if, with his eyes closed like this, Jonathan's body forgot to pretend to be human. He was still, completely and utterly stilled. His arms had moved, and Yamini was quite sure he had not planned that, to lay folded over his chest as though he were dead. And his chest wasn't going up and down- he wasn't breathing. The light of the lamp made his skin look paler than before, making him look like he was made of marble, like he was a statue.

Like he wasn't even real.

And suddenly, Yamini was scared. Or rather, terrified. Because suddenly she realized, for the first time ever, that she wasn't in the presence of a human. She was in the presence of something _else_. And every instinct in her told her to run, because this something else, it didn't see her as a person.

It saw her as food.

No!

This was Jonathan, and he loved her. He would never hurt her, no matter what he had become. She was safe with him. She was.

She was.

*

Yamini woke up a few hours after Jonathan. By then the night had fallen and Jonathan had left the hotel room for a bit. He returned sated from feeding and with a bag full of fast food. He left the bag on the counter and moved over to the girl, running his hand through her blond hair once.

Yamini yawned and blinked up at him, eyes scrunched in confusion until it seemed she remembered where she was and who he was. Then she sat up, rubbing her eyes, and signed, _What time is it?_

 _Nine o'clock_ , Jonathan replied, handing her the bag of food _. Eat up, kiddo._

What are we doing tonight? Yamini asked before taking out a burger and squinting at it. She shrugged after a moment and then dug in.

Jonathan waited until Yamini finished eating and looked up at him, then signed, _I was going to stay in the hotel room. Why, did you want to go out?_

_We can't stay here forever, can we?_

Jonathan sighed _, I booked the room for two nights._ _After that, we'll move on. Find a different hotel._

_And then another?_

_And then another_ , Jonathan agreed.

_And then another after that._

*

The next two nights were what Jonathan had personally coined 'lay off' days. That is, days when he wasn't moving, and couldn't feel Dracula hovering over him. Those days when he just…existed, did nothing. Sat in place and waited for the world to return to its usual level of madness.

Usually, lay off days were Jonathan's worst days. When he wasn't running, when there was no fear or adrenaline to distract him, he would lay on the beds of the hotel room or on the floor of the building he was hiding in, and think.

Grief came to him on those days, harsh and brutal and biting. It was like lava being poured into his toes, that slowly made its way up his body until his whole being was taken over by pain.

In his mind, he saw the deaths. First, he'd remember his fangs sinking into flesh, the crimson nectar that poured into his body. He remembered how good it was, how right it had felt to drink the life out of the people squirming underneath him. Sometimes, he pushed the memories forward, making them play faster and faster in his mind, on rewind. He was worthy of that pain, he wanted to suffer.

Other days, he tried to stop the memories. They were too hard, too painful to live through again, and he didn't want to try. But when he tried to stop the memories, tried to think of something else, they became stronger, burrowed deeper into his mind. Cruelly pierced through every one of the defenses he tried to put up.

After those memories ended (and they always did, one way or another. Sometimes it took whole days, but in the end Jonathan was broken inside and there was no more damage they could inflict), he would start imagining. And that was even worse. Imagining how Lucy had died, how Dracula had torn her flesh off to put in on himself. Imagining how Jack, Agatha, Arthur had died. How Yamini's father had died, probably not even knowing what was killing him (he'd probably thought of his daughter, if he had the time to think of anything. Did he wonder where the girl was, if she was safe? Did he hope she was far away and oblivious to what was happening to him?).

And Mina…he always thought of her last. And hers was always the worst. He imagined different things, and his mind went to insane places. Torture and mutilation and drawn out deaths that took hours. Sometimes Jonathan imagined that Dracula had taken his time with her. That he had broken her bones one at a time, or sucked out her blood slowly. The times when his mind came up with that, it was nearly durable.

It was the other times that were the real problem. Those times when he imagined Dracula taking his time with Mina in a different way. He imagined Dracula placing a screaming, struggling Mina on the floor and looming over her.

When he imagined these scenes, he was never a bystander observing. Instead, he imagined himself in Mina's body. It was his clothes being ripped off, his flesh being pierced by Dracula's clawed fingers. It was him that Dracula entered, him that was forced to experience ecstasy mixed with pain until it was impossible to tell the difference between the two. 

It wasn't an imagined scene, it was a hallucination. And Jonathan couldn't escape it. He would scream, inside and out, and thrust in place. His claws would come out and he'd slash the air, his clothes, his skin. The fleeting pain of cutting himself mixed with the phantom pain Dracula was inflicting on him, and it made the lines between the two even blurrier.

When he got out of these hallucinations, he'd find himself laying on the floor, his own blood a puddle around him, his clothes in tatters on his side.

So, it was safe to say that lay off days were not Jonathan's favourite.

But this time, it was rather different. During the next two nights, Jonathan spent his time talking. Well, signing. Yamini was a bit like a ball made of energy. It seemed that the madness of the past…. well, _while_ , had finally hit her. Instead of crying or bloody screaming, which was what Jonathan would have done, she began jumping around and moving up and down the hotel room as though she was a monkey going mad.

Jonathan ended up telling the girl to just jump on the bed, and counted the amount of times she could jump back and forth from one bed to another before she lost her balance and fell. That kept her entertained for quite a while, eventually burning out her energy enough to settle down on the arms of the chair Jonathan was sitting on and demand stories.

And God, she looked so young, with her cheeks flushed from the excitement, her head tilted slightly to the side and her arms resting on Jonathan's shoulder, and he had suddenly wanted to cry. Instead he had done as she asked.

The next night, after they both took a shower and had dinner sitting on the beds (well, Yamini had a Creaser salad from the nearby cafe, Jonathan sat with her and entertained her with tales of his boyhood mischief-the ones he hadn't told her yesterday. He was going to have to find different ways to entertain her soon, he was running out of stories), they left the hotel room. Jonathan checked them out before allowing Yamini to take hold of his hand tightly and stepping out of the hotel.

He didn't like having to walk the streets with a child by his side. Not this late, and not these streets. He could see muggers waiting in the dark where no human eyes could spot them, and gangs of young men roaming and waiting for an excuse to get into a fist fight with someone. There were also the hookers (ladies of the night, Lucy liked to call them. He'd once accused her of wanting to be a hooker, and she had wiped her hair backwards in a rather dramatic notion and replied, "Why not? I bloody love sex. And money. Know any other profession that combines them both?" There wasn't really anything he could say to that, honestly), in their leather and lace, calling out to the men in French. Though he could hear that not all of them were from France, their words stuttered out with different accents.

This dark world, that stank of alcohol, urine and sex, there was nothing frightening about it to Jonathan anymore. All these humans pretending to be monsters elicited nothing but weary amusement out of him. They weren't frightening or intimidating. They were little pups barking out, demanding to be treated like mighty hunters, never realizing a rabid dog was prowling under their window.

And there was a feral, black wolf in the shadows, watching the dog. The dog, unlike the pups, knew there was a greater threat then himself.

Yamini was holding on to his arm tightly, and Jonathan let out a silent _thank you_ that he had had the foresight to dress her up. There were men here that he was sure would have found Yamini appealing. It was a disturbing but true fact that many men saw all women- and girls-as their personal property. These men were still looking at the boy-Yamini, but it wasn't as bad. Jonathan looked down at Yamini, but the girl, luckily, was not looking around to see all the darkness around her. She was staring at her feet, seemingly trusting Jonathan to guide her safely. He didn't feel he was worthy of that trust. But he was also the only one available, there was no one else for Yamini to hold onto.

Jonathan tore his eyes away from her as he continued to walk, since one of them had to take charge. One of them had to pay attention to the world around them. One of them had to keep their eyes open to the dangers.

They walked out of the long street and into a small alleyway, and Jonathan swore silently to himself. Not a good idea, walking into an alley with Yamini. Yes, it was what he'd been doing the past few months, being anxious to avoid crowds as much as possible. But dark alleys hid dark men, and he didn't want Yamini to see those dark men at work.

Suddenly Jonathan was so angry and frustrated by the need to change his entire way of surviving to accommodate this child that had thrust herself on him. This was going to be so much bloody _harder_. And it was bloody hard to begin with.

Why had he agreed to this? He never should have gone to see Yamini before leaving London, and he _certainly_ shouldn't have returned to London. That had been dangerous and, frankly, selfish. As soon as Dracula had realized how important it was for Jonathan to keep Yamini safe, the child was never going to be left alone.

Which was, in the end, the reason he had agreed to take Yamini with him. It was his responsibility that she had been brought to Dracula's attention. Not just by returning to London the second time, but by doing so the first time. Returning to London from Dracula's castle.

That had been where he had gone wrong, where _everything_ had gone wrong. He should have allowed Dracula to turn him in the castle, and submitted to his fate as the fourth of Dracula's brides. That way, Lucy wouldn't have been killed so Dracula could hide in her skin. Yamini's father wouldn't have died to scare them, Jack and Agatha wouldn't have died to protect Jonathan, Arthur wouldn't have died so Doligen and Dracula could come into their apartment. And Mina wouldn't have died because Jonathan wanted her to.

Other people would have died, people in Romania that Dracula would have taken Jonathan to drink from, but those people weren’t real to Jonathan, they were phantom figures in the dark. Mina was real, Lucy and the rest of his friends were real. The grieving child holding on to him was real.

Jonathan swallowed and stopped in his tracks before the two of them walked deeper into the alley. They'd already gone further then he would like, while he was sinking into self-hatred. He tapped Yamini's shoulder and signed, when she looked up at him, _We're going back, all right?_

Yamini nodded, eyes wide, and then looked back down to the ground. Jonathan sighed and turned, and then froze. Well. He had moved too late.

There was a group of men walking towards them, eyes sparking in the dark. There was violence in their eyes.

Fuck.


	17. Of Bats and Yamini's Revelation

Yamini gasped, grasping Jonathan's hand even tighter. These men, walking towards them, she'd seen them before. They were the same men that had followed them two nights earlier when they'd made their way to the hotel room. She breathed out heavily and hid herself slightly behind Jonathan.

Jonathan moved forward, hiding Yamini behind him. She saw his hands tightening into fists, and took a step backwards, away from him. It wasn't that she was scared of him, because she wasn't. It was just…it seemed safer to be a little farther from him right now.

Jonathan took a few steps forward, and if Yamini had been the men in front of them would have run away. instead they rushed forward. And Jonathan attacked.

It took less then a minute for them all to die, and then…

Then Jonathan dug in.

*

When Yamini had been around five years old, before her mother had died, her parents had taken her on a safari trip.

"We spend too much time in the city," Her mother had told her father, when she'd suggested the trip. "I want my daughter to know her land."

It had been a wonderful trip, full of laughter and sunshine and hugs, and it lived in Yamini's memory as one long warm haze. Except for one moment.

They were in their camp at the end of a day of hiking, surrounded by tens of other tents with other families. Yamini had just been taken out of a ball game (she had still been young enough that she could play with children her age without the need to speak) and knowing it would be quite a while before a new game would start, she and another girl had wondered off to the edge of the camp.

The camp was surrounded by a ditch and electric fence, which the wild animals around had learned not to try and cross. But they still prowled around it, waiting for some foolish camper to leave safety. That was what had happened when Yamini had come up to the fence.

As Yamini and the other girl approached, they saw an enormous, stunningly beautiful tiger walking back and forth. The other girl had jumped up and down, clapping her hands in excitement and babbling something that Yamini (obviously) could not hear.

Yamini, though, had been struck numb as the tiger stopped moving and turned to look at her. He'd frozen in place, one paw in the air-and just stared at her.

It wasn't that he made her feel small, or that she had been afraid of being eaten. That was what she had told her parents later, when they'd found her crying and shivering, hidden in one of the empty tents.

Well, he did, and she had been. But that wasn't what had shook her so much that she could not stop thinking of the tiger for years to come.

No, what had happened was that Yamini, at the tender young age of five, had had her first existential crisis. She had looked at the hungry eyes of the predator and realized that there were creatures out there who didn’t care if she was happy or sad, healthy or sick, hungry or full. There were some creatures out there that only cared about whether or not she could give them what they wanted out of her.

She would encounter many more creatures like that as she grew, of course. Kids in school who pretended to be her friends to get help in one class or another, young women who gave her treats to get an in with her well-to-do, good looking widowed father. It hurt, every time she realized it had happened. And it had happened for different reasons, though a lot of them repeated, over the years. The tiger had been the only time the reason had been a wish to eat her.

Until now, though. As she watched Jonathan feed, and his eyes flipped up to hers, she saw it again. Hunger.

There was no recognition in his eyes as he looked her over. He didn't see the girl he had comforted after the murder of her father, or the one whose short hair he had ruffled in affection, the girl who he'd watched jump from bed to bed, the one he'd carried away from monsters. All he saw was a pack of blood in the shape of a small human.

This wasn't Jonathan, this was the tiger. And the only thing he wanted out of her was too sate his starvation (he hasn't been eating enough, of course he hadn't. Jonathan didn't want to kill).

So she ran.

Yamini had learned from their struggles with Dracula. You couldn’t outrun a vampire. No matter how fast you were, no matter how much adrenaline was pumping through your veins. Couldn't be done. You needed a different tactic. Yamini turned to the side and smashed through the window of the closest building she could reach.

Pain exploded through her as she landed on a hard floor, most of it centering on her arm, but some on her legs as well. She gasped, and even that hurt. Yamini blinked, forcing herself to look down at her arm. There were several huge pieces of glass sticking out of her dark skin, and blood was pouring out, dripping down to the floor.

Feeling terrifying déjà vu from her self-harm a few nights earlier, Yamini placed the palm of her uninjured arm on the cold floor and used it to pull herself up into a seated position. She cradled her arm and bit her lip hard enough to feel blood trickle down.

 _Idiot_ , Yamini chided herself. It wasn't like she had blood to spare.

She rubbed her eyes, and as she pulled her palm away, she caught sight of the broken window and yelled out, soundlessly. There was a figure there, clawing at the air, trying to get in. He had black and red, inhuman eyes, and he was snarling, his fangs outstretched, drool dripping down. He moved liked an animal, slithering in a way that was both elegant and gruesome.

It was Jonathan.

 _You need to leave_ , the only part of her mind still working screamed out to her. _Dracula will be coming; he won't miss this. And you don't have long. As soon as he sees you here, you're trapped_ _, and then what?_

She didn't want to leave, though. She was mesmerized by the site of the predator in front of her. Like the tiger, this predator was beautiful. Unlike the tiger, though, there was hope for this predator. He could return to being a human.

 _Stop it_ , Yamini told herself, and then pushed herself up on her feet. A new wave of pain pulsed through her, which weirdly gave her more energy, and she dashed out of the room and down the hallway until she found a bathroom.

 _You can do_ this, Yamini closed her eyes for a moment, and then opened them again and looked at herself in the mirror. She saw her short hair, the one that Jonathan had gently cut, making it look as nice as possible, to keep her safe. She owed it to him to save herself, to make sure his loving work wasn't for nothing.

_This is going to hurt. But you can do this._

She grabbed a few towels, tucked one of them into her mouth and placed her arm on the sink. Shaking slightly for a moment, Yamini looked down at her arm, and then grabbed the piece of glass, and pulled it out.


	18. Of Bats and Breaking Apart

Yamini was gone. Her blood was staining the floor that Jonathan could not reach, the air around it stank of her sweat. But she wasn't there anymore. He had lost her.

Jonathan groaned and punched the air again, pathetically trying to force his way in into the apartment. It was pointless, though. He couldn't turn back time and make himself human again. He couldn't make it so he wasn't a danger to everyone around him.

He looked around, taking in the blood drenched scene he had created. The men who had followed him and Yamini were on the ground, now in several more pieces then they had been before. There wasn't much blood in them after Jonathan's drinking, but he'd spilled enough to paint the ground in crimson.

Most of the blood, though, was on Jonathan himself. His clothes were soaked in it, his stomach full of it, and his mouth still tasted it. It was so good it made Jonathan scream out in horror and collapse to the ground, pounding it with his fists.

When the scream faded from the air, it left a sense of deep despair that Jonathan didn't know what to do with. He wanted to lay on the ground and wait for the sun to come up, and he wanted to get up and run after Yamini. He could follow the smell of her blood ,and unless she washed it all of herself (and she certainly could have, she was such a clever girl), he could find her.

He couldn't do that, though. He had just proven, to himself and to her, that he could not be trusted to keep her safe. She had run from him, had been forced to hurt herself to get away from him.

It had been the right choice, and he was so grateful she had made it- but it still hurt. That he lost her, and that she was probably terrified of him now.

He needed to stay as far away from her as possible.

Jonathan picked his bloody hand up and looked it over. Blood. If he could follow Yamini's blood to find the girl, so could Dracula. And it would certainly be in character for him to do so, if only to use her as bait to get Jonathan to-

No. this was _not_ the time to think of what Dracula might want from him.

He needed to keep Dracula away from Yamini. There was no doubt in his mind that Dracula was _somewhere_ nearby (he always seemed to be), and would go after Yamini if Jonathan didn't do anything to stop it.

Jonathan tilted his head, considering just screaming out for Dracula, over and over again. He would certainly come, out of curiosity if nothing else. Though, before he did he would probably send Doligen after Yamini. He would have the foresight to do so. Jonathan needed to make him act impulsively.

He needed to scare him.

And Jonathan could only think of one way to scare the monster haunting his steps.

Jonathan nodded to himself and walked over to the nearby rather dirty bench. He raised his foot and stomped down, breaking it into hundreds of wooden pieces. Jonathan leaned down to pick up the largest piece and positioned it in front of his chest.

 _A stake to the heart_ , Agatha had told him, what seemed like years ago. Well, it was time to test that. He breathed deeply and pushed the piece of wood deep into himself.

He heard someone calling his name from far, far away, and then his eyes closed.

*

His eyes opened.

On instinct, he tried to sit up. His arms went up, his head jerked, and his legs folded in preparation for raising. But he couldn't move. His chest wouldn’t rise with the rest of his body.

"I'm afraid that only works when somebody else does it."

Jonathan's head turned to the side, and he found Dracula, perched next to him, looking down at him with an unreadable expression. He was dressed in a black suit with a blood-red shirt, which seemed almost too perfect ( _rather on the nose, no_ , Jonathan's panicked mind supplied), and his hair was a bit of a mess on his head.

Almost as though he'd been running his hand through it. Almost like he was nervous.

"Though I'm still rather upset with you for trying," Dracula added, and behind him a figure shifted, placing a hand on a hip. Doligen. She was there. Which meant she wasn’t off after Yamini.

Though, of course, who knew how bloody long he'd been…whatever had just happened to him. It was possible that they had already caught Yamini, and then come to him.

Jonathan flipped his eyes away from Dracula and took a look around. The bodies were still on the ground, the moon was still in the same place in the sky. It couldn't have been more then a few minutes. At the most.

No. They wouldn't have had the time to get Yamini and stash her somewhere else. She had gotten away. This would have been perfect if Jonathan had actually died.

"I don’t understand what you find so appealing about this boy," Doligen spat out, sounding absolutely disgusted. "He's just a pathetic little child that wants to die. So just _let_ him so we can go home already."

"Hmm," Dracula stood up, and Jonathan's eyes widened as he grabbed hold of Doligen's throat and slashed open her stomach.

The blood and guts rained out and hit Jonathan straight on. He gasped in horror as something that looked like a kidney hit his cheek and fell on the ground besides him. Doligen gurgled, blood spilling from her mouth as Dracula raked his hands through her stomach, keeping the open wound torn in two.

Jonathan could see her spine, her dead heart. He could feel her blood on his lips, and tasted the thousands (millions, probably), of humans she had devoured over the years. He had never tasted another vampire's blood, it was disgusting. It tasted like he had just eaten food that had already been digested and then spat back out.

"Why do you _insist_ on making me angry?" Dracula asked in a conversational tone. "Sometimes I think you forget that I'm your master. Not your friend, love."

Without waiting for a response, he threw Doligen to the ground. Jonathan followed her descend, watching as she twisted and shivered on the ground, her body quickly reforming itself. Before long the wound was gone, and she was pale and appeared nearly dead. She had lost so much blood that she lay there, weak and barely able to move. She blinked a few times, looking at Jonathan, and then started crawling, one slow move at a time, towards the bodies of the men. To drink the blood left over on the ground.

Jonathan felt sick.

Dracula sighed and leaned back down, turning his attention back to Jonathan as Jonathan tore his eyes away from Doligen and turned to Dracula as well.

"Oh, Johnny. Johnny, Johnny, Johnny," The vampire clicked his tongue. "My poor little boy. Things have been rather hard for you, haven't they?"

Jonathan turned his head away, feeling a few tears trickle down his cheeks.

"I saw the blood. You lost the girl, didn't you?" Dracula sighed, shaking his head. "Did you try to feed from her, lovely?"

"I didn't!" Jonathan cried out. "I-"

But he had, hadn't he? He'd tried to feed from her, forcing her to hurt herself-that was his fault.

Dracula raised an eyebrow and then snorted, "Oh, sweetheart. Would you please stop being so bloody hard on yourself? She's a human, you're a vampire. It's quite natural for you to want to feed from her. Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter much now, does it? She's gone, probably bled out…It's time for us to go."

"Go…?" Jonathan blinked, and then the rest of his sentence caught up with him. "Wait, no. She didn't bleed out, she's fine-"

"She might not have, I can't really say," Dracula stood up and placed his hand on the stake keeping Jonathan in place. He wiggled the stake a bit, causing Jonathan to gasp out in pain. "I'll I'm saying is that it truly doesn't matter."

"It matters," Jonathan whispered. "Human life matters."

"Oh, my darling," Dracula sighed, sounding warm and amused. "You still don't get it. They don’t matter, the only ones that matter are us."

And before Jonathan could reply, he pulled the stake out of Jonathan's chest.

"Fuck!" Jonathan gasped out, his chest pulsing with pain. A bit of blood spilled out, but the wound closed immediately and he shivered and convulsed in place for a moment before growing still.

"I apologize for not warning you, but I often find that pain is easier to bear when you don't expect it," Dracula said brightly and scooped Jonathan into his arms. It felt far too warm, being cradled by Dracula. Jonathan felt as if he'd been through into a bathtub of fire, and bit his lip, trying to stop himself from whimpering, when Dracula pressed his lips to Jonathan's forehead. "There. All done."

"What are you going to do to me this time?" Jonathan asked.

"Doligen? Ready to go?" Dracula called out, and then looked down at Jonathan. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I said," Jonathan repeated, gritting his teeth. "What are you going to do to me this time?"

"Hmm, that's an interesting question," Dracula looked up at the moon. "Haven't thought of it yet, much. Any suggestions?"

"Stake me through the heart," Jonathan said bitterly, allowing his head to collapse on Dracula's shoulder. He was tired, so very, very tired.

Dracula laughed lightly, and shifted Jonathan so he could take on hand off to grab Jonathan's chin and tilt it up, "You're not going to die. You're going to live, forever. With me. Try again."

Jonathan shook his head, his nose brushing over Dracula's neck, "I don't care, then."

"Oh, well," Dracula clicked his tongue. "Doligen, do you have any idea what I can do with this little boy?"

"I think you want to take him to the hotel room and fuck him until he's screaming for mercy," Doligen replied, sounding weak and shaky.

Jonathan froze in horror, and Dracula let out a small laugh, caressing Jonathan's chin with his finger, "Wonderful idea, Doligen. Shall we go?"

"No," The word flew out of Jonathan's mouth, though he hadn't planned to.

"No, no, no," Dracula rolled his eyes and hoisted Jonathan on his shoulder. "Come on then, Doligen."

Jonathan closed his eyes.

 _The longer he's busy with you, the more time Yamini has to get far, far away,_ Jonathan reminded himself. _You need to endure._


	19. Of Bats and Reunions

Johnny was limp and pliable in his arms as Dracula carried him to the car he had waiting and climbed to the back, keeping the boy cradled in his arms. Doligen slipped into the driver's seat, keeping completely silent. She knew she'd gone too far, and was smart enough to not push Dracula anymore. But he also realized that she wouldn't have spoken up if she hadn't truly been outraged. He needed to think of what to do with his other brides, they were losing their patience with his game. And no matter how excited Doligen had been about leaving the Castle, he realized now that she was rather homesick. All she truly wanted is to go home.

It might be a good idea to send Doligen home with the twins. He could trust Doligen to look after the girls, though he wasn't sure he could trust her around Jonathan at the moment. Dramatic woman, his bride.

He flicked his eyes up to Doligen and said softly, "If I were to offer you to return to the Castle, what would you say?"

"I would say that was probably a good idea," Doligen replied, and their eyes met in the mirror. "With the twins?"

"With the twins."

Johnny twitched in his arms, and Dracula looked down at him. The boy was shivering slightly, looking up at him with wide eyes. He looked so adorable Dracula grinned and leaned down to kiss him softly. Johnny's lips were warm and bloody, and entirely slack. He didn't try to push away, or kiss back. He just lay there, seemingly struck.

"Sweet boy," Dracula whispered into Johnny's lips, and then kissed his forehead, smelling his skin. "I've missed you."

"You saw me three nights ago," Johnny replied, scrunching his nose adorably.

"Yes, I suppose that's true. But that had been a rather _quick_ interaction, hadn't it? This is going to be a longer one, love."

*

"Oh, you brought him back," Roxandra mumbled when Dracula walked into their hotel suite's living room. He deposited Jonathan on one of the sofas as Doligen walked over to sit on Brandusca's box, where the dark-haired vampire was peeking out.

Roxandra crawled on all fours and perched on the edge of the sofa, her chin resting on folded hands that she placed next to Johnny's thigh, and looked up at the boy.

"You're very pretty, aren’t you?" Roxandra mused.

Dracula raised an eyebrow, rather amused by Roxandra. She wasn't wrong, of course, and had always been drawn to beauty the way bees were drawn to flowers. Now that Jonathan wasn't food, she could appreciate him aesthetically.

"I like him," Roxandra stood up. She was still looking at Jonathan, but clearly talking to her master. "Are we taking him home now?"

There was a note of pleading in her voice. Ah. Seemed like another one of his brides was more then ready to head home. They were starting to ruin his fun. It was time to send them away.

And, if he was being honest with himself, Dracula understood their plight. There was a not inconsiderable part of himself that wanted the same, to just end the game and go home. Have Johnny with him at all times, not just sporadically for a few hours every few days.

"Do you want us to leave the suite?" Brandusca asked, and the smirk was easy to hear just from her voice. Dracula kept his gaze trained on Jonathan, watching his boy flinch away from Roxandra's ravenous gaze.

He probably hadn't meant it, but the shuffle brought him close to Dracula. All the vampire had to do was reach his hand out to touch the boy.

Dracula placed his hand on Johnny's shoulder and pulled him over, so the boy stumbled off the sofa and ended up standing next to Dracula.

"Don’t scare the child, Roxandra," Brandusca admonished, still clearly amused. "Can't you see he's already terrified out of his mind?"

As if in agreement, Johnny let out a small whimper.

"That's enough, both of you," Dracula pulled Johnny close to him, enjoying his warmth. "Doligen, why don't you and the girls go out and feed?"

"Yes," Doligen immediately agreed. She clearly was less then interested in hearing what was about to happen. "Brandusca, Roxandra-"

"Must we?" Roxandra asked, tilting her head pleadingly at Dracula. "I'd rather watch."

"Yes, you must," Dracula replied, less amused now. Johnny wasn't for sharing.

Roxandra jerked backwards, clearly taken aback by the sudden coldness of his words. But she nodded and followed her twins out. All three female vampires spilled out of the suite, and Dracula was alone with his only male bride.

"Well," Dracula said brightly, taking a step away from Johnny to look him over. "You look dreadful, darling. We need to get you cleaned up."

Johnny swallowed and kept his eyes on the carpeted floor, "Do whatever you want."

"Thank you, I will," Dracula rolled his eyes at the dramatic response and made his way to the bathroom. He turned on the tap in the bathtub and then turned to Johnny and waved his hand, "Come here, Johnny."

The boy hesitated for a moment, then seemed to think better of any rebellion and walked over.

"Good boy," Dracula praised quietly, and placed his hands on Johnny's jacket. He felt the dried blood there and shook his head in fond exasperation. "You're a sloppy eater, love. We'll have to work on that."

Johnny swallowed and looked away. He offered no resistance as Dracula pulled his jacket and shit off, leaving him in nothing but his pants. Dracula licked his lips as he took in Johnny's strong and pale chest, his pink nipples and the line of black hair leading downwards.

"Such a pretty boy," Dracula ran his hand through Johnny's hair before moving his hands down and grabbing hold of the young vampire's pants.

Johnny's breath hitched (he was still breathing, Dracula was going to need to teach the boy to stop doing that), but he didn’t flinch away from Dracula's touch when he unbuckled his pants and pushed them down.

The underwear came next, and as it did, Dracula ran his fingers down the limp cock, but Johnny still didn't try to fight him. Dracula had to leave him for a moment to stop the flow of water into the bath. When he turned to look back at Johnny, he stopped for a moment to just take the boy in.

Bloody hell, the boy was beautiful. He'd rather forgotten about that. His pale skin, blue eyes, black hair, the way his muscles shone in the low light. He looked like a Greek statue brought to life. And the dry blood painting his skin just made him even more perfect.

"Come here, love," Dracula whispered.

Johnny turned, but didn't move towards him. He just stared at Dracula. And Dracula stared back.

"I don't want to keep playing this game," Johnny said. His voice was calm and collected. He didn't sound frightened anymore. It was magnificent. Dracula wanted to only ever hear Johnny's voice like this. Not cowering away, but standing tall and proud.

"I see," Dracula settled down on the edge of the bathtub. This felt like it was going to be a rather long conversation.

"I know I can't stop you from continuing to play with me for as long as you want," Johnny continued. "So I don't know if there's any point to me asking you to stop."

"There is a point," Dracula replied. "Would you come here and get cleaned?"

" _What_ is the point?" Johnny demanded, not moving.

"Come _here_."

Johnny immediately came over. Dracula smiled and grabbed Johnny's wrist, pulling him into the tub.

"Now," Dracula said calmly. "Let's talk."

"You said there was a point for me to ask you to stop playing this game," Jonathan said slowly. "But you're not going to stop, are you?"

"I don't mind stopping," Dracula replied, picking up a bar of soap. "My other brides are eager to head home. I wouldn't mind going home as well."

Johnny closed his eyes and said, "Home means the Castle, yes?"

"Yes," Dracula began rubbing soap into Johnny's hair, gently.

With his eyes still closed, Johnny said, "I hate the Castle."

"We don't have to go back there."

"And that means you'll keep haunting me all over bloody Europe, doesn’t it?" Johnny's eyes flew open and he glared at Dracula.

"Well, yes. Those are your two options," Dracula replied. "I can either have you home or we can play. Which we got with is up to you."

Johnny bit his lip and Dracula smiled. He thought he knew what this was about.

"And if we stay here, I might run into Yamini. You can't let that happen, can you?"

"Please don’t touch her-"

"I won’t, not if you come home with me. I'll be satisfied there with you. What would I need from the girl?"

"Then let's go back to the Castle."

Dracula smirked, "Yes. That's what I thought. Let's go home, then."

The boy seemed to shrink into himself, as if realizing what he had just done. Not interested in dealing with another one of the boy's breakdowns, Dracula took his hands off Johnny's soaped up hair and slipped his fingers into the water and took hold of the boy's soft and limp cock.

"What-"

"Hush," Dracula grabbed the back of Johnny's neck and pushed his head backwards, pinning him in place. He closed his fist on Johnny's cock and tugged, hard. Johnny yelped, and Dracula smirked to himself. He caressed the cock, feeling it start to grow hard after only around half a minute. He'd trained the boy well, hadn't he? Dracula mentally gave himself a pat on the back. "There you go. I think you've rather missed me as well; haven't you love?"

"No," Johnny gritted out. "You just…confused me after all this time."

"I have, haven't I?" Dracula nodded and took his hand off Johnny's neck. With his fingers still playing with the tip of Johnny's cock, he made the boy sit up.

"Fuck!" Johnny gasped, horrified, as Dracula moved his other hand down.

Dracula groaned in satisfaction, holding Johnny in place while he sunk his finger deeper into him.

"Take it out, please-"

"Johnny, darling," Dracula whispered, kissing Johnny's neck, and allowed the boy to collapse into his hold while he wiggled his finger, searching until the boy yelped out in a combination of shock and desire. Ah. He found it. "There. That felt good, didn't it? I can make you feel good, can't I? I've always made you feel good."

Johnny wrapped his arms around Dracula's neck, as if trying to anchor himself.

"You know that I make you feel good," Dracula whispered into the boy's ear. He smelled fresh now, of soap and water. "Don't you?"

He slipped a second finger in, gently.

"Don't you, love?"

"Yes," Johnny panted, hiding his face in Dracula's shirt. "Please-"

"Don't worry, my sweet little boy," Dracula scissored his fingers, making the boy yelp out again. Well, to be fair it had been a few weeks since they'd done that. "I've got you, it's all all right."

He could hear the boy sniff.

Dracula grinned triumphantly, and kept on his work of opening Johnny up. He went slowly, and gently, until Johnny's hole was wide open and wet, and Johnny came, muffling his scream into Dracula's shirt.

When he decided that Johnny was open enough, he continued for just a while longer, just because it felt so good to have his fingers buried in the warm of Johnny's hole. But eventually he did stop, since however good it felt it would feel a hundred times better when it was his cock buried in there instead.

"Come on, then," Dracula murmured into Johnny's ear, standing up with the boy in his arms. He cradled Johnny and looked down at him. Johnny's eyes were closed, his lips pale and shivering.

Johnny always looked young, but in these moments, after Dracula made him come, he looked even younger. Much younger than his actual years. Dracula wondered, as he carried Johnny to his bedroom, if he would continue looking this way as he grew older, or if something in him would harden and grow darker.

Dracula smirked, as he placed Johnny on the bed. He was quite fond with both of those options.

Johnny opened his eyes as he landed on the sheets, and pulled himself up into a seated position. His eyes were wide and round, but there wasn't any fear in them. There was nothing but fury in them.

But he wasn't going to fight him, that was clear to Dracula as he crawled on the bed towards the boy. He just stayed in place, watching Dracula.

"Good boy. You're not going to fight me, then?" Dracula tucked a strand of wet hair behind Johnny's hair.

"There's no point, and you just hurt me when I do," The boy replied.

Rather blunt.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Dracula pushed Johnny down on the bed with a splayed palm on his chest. "I'm going to keep you safe."

"I don't believe you."

Had he accidently somehow given Johnny a truth drug or something of that kind (he'd done that before, a couple of times. When he'd given it to Doligen, it had been an illuminating experience)?

"I've only ever hurt you when you fought me," Dracula replied. That wasn't, precisely, true. But he didn’t need Johnny to remember that. "And now that you're not going to fight me, you're not going to be hurt."

And _that_ was true. He didn't like Johnny hurt, he liked Johnny gasping in pleasure and holding on to Dracula for bloody dear life.

He placed Johnny's legs over his shoulder and positioned his cock against Johnny's' hole.

"Are you ready, lovely?"

"No," Johnny replied. "But go in, anyways."

Dracula laughed, and pushed in.

There. He was one with the boy again. Everything was right with the world now.


	20. Of Bats and Mourning

Light in her left eye, light in her right. Gloved fingers prodding the back of her head, tilting her chin up and down, opening her mouth to look inside. She felt a bit like a horse being looked over before being given as a gift.

Which probably wasn’t fair. It wasn't the doctor's fault that she couldn't communicate with Yamini. Still.

She'd been found by a young French couple wondering the streets a few minutes after stumbling out of the apartment. One of them had clearly had some medical training since she used her sweater to stop Yamini's bleeding while instructing her girlfriend to make a call, probably to call an ambulance, since one had come a few minutes later.

At the hospital, Yamini was given a shot that numbed her arm, and had watched with detachment as a nurse pulled out pieces of glass from her arm and stitched it up.

The doctors and nurses had learned pretty quickly that they could only communicate with Yamini through writing, and only in English, and they'd asked her a few times where she'd come from, who her parents were, and who had hurt her. But she'd just push those pieces away and ignored the question.

Luckily, they hadn't pushed. They were probably waiting for the police to arrive. Yamini knew it was only a matter of time before her identity was discovered (she'd been oddly proud when it had taken the doctors a few minutes to realize she was a girl. Jonathan had been right. But that layer of protection was now gone), and then she was quite sure that all hell would break lose.

Would she be sent back to her foster family? Unlikely. She'd probably be sent to some institution or another. A hospital, or maybe a kiddie prison. Or at the very least, to another foster family. One that didn't have to find their kitchen full with her blood.

And they'd want to know how she got to Paris. Well, she wasn't going to tell. That was Jonathan, and she wasn't sharing him.

A tap on her shoulder startled Yamini slightly, and she turned to see the nurse smiling down at her and then she was handed a piece of paper that said, _The police are coming to talk to you-_

There, she'd guessed correctly.

_-in the meantime, would you like something to eat?_

Yamini shook her head, and watched as the woman sighed, patted Yamini's shoulder and walked out of the small examination room.

Left alone, Yamini turned to the window and looked out. The sun was coming out, peeping through the tallest buildings. No Dracula, and no Jonathan. And there was something in her that told her that they won't come for her again. Even if Jonathan managed to get himself under control again, he wouldn't want to be anywhere near her. She knew him. If self-loathing wasn't enough to keep him from her, then the risk of hurting her would do it. And if Jonathan didn't want to be around her, then Dracula would have no interest in her either.

Yamini swallowed, suddenly remembering a conversation she had with Van Helsing after the death of her father. Van Helsing had demanded Yamini tell her, in detail, about her interaction with Dracula.

That had been…hard, and when it was done Yamini had asked, _Are you going to kill him?_

Van Helsing had looked at her shrewdly for a moment, making Yamini squirm, and then she'd written, _Yes. I will kill every vampire I can._

_Because they're evil?_

_Not evil_ , Van Helsing had corrected. _Just monsters._

Yamini hadn't understood the difference then. but after seeing Jonathan-as-a-monster, she did.

Boy, how she understood. And how she wished she didn’t. monsters couldn’t be saved. Evil people were still _people_. No matter how hard. Monsters, though-monsters were monsters.

 _Monsters are monsters_ , Yamini thought, watching the sun. Jonathan was a monster, and she couldn't save him.

 _Nothing_ could save him. _Nothing_ could stop hm from losing his mind again. _Nothing_ could stop him from attacking Yamini again if he got hungry. _Nothing_ could make Yamini feel safe with him again.

The door behind her opened, Yamini could see from the corner of her eye, and a police officer walking in. Yamini took a deep breath. It was time to go back to the world that she had abandoned. Back to facing adults who didn't understand and didn't try to, back to children her own age who now seemed so very young compared to her. Back to missing Jonathan and wanting him close.

This time, though, there would be no fear. No sleepless nights waiting for something to happen. Nothing was going to happen, and nothing could scare her anymore.

Nothing could ever be as horrifying and heart-breaking as watching Jonathan disappear right in front of her. The world couldn’t scare her anymore, not after she'd seen the worst it had to offer. So she took a deep breath, and turned around to face the music. 


End file.
